The Best Laid Plans
by EstellaDoreaBlack
Summary: They both knew how their lives would play out after the war. But Fate has a funny way of intervening in a person's life. HM. Sequel to When You Need Me Most.
1. Chapter One: Goodbye

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

**This fic is rated T for mentions of rape (nothing graphic, which is why it's not an M). If you don't like it, don't read it.**

**This story is a sequel to _When You Need Me Most. _I highly recommend you read that one first.**

_**Chapter One: Goodbye**_

He didn't know what to say.

It had brought tears to his eyes to say goodbye to Klinger and Mulcahy, but the words, the jokes he used to cover his feelings (but that was okay, because they knew how he felt) had come easily. Charles he would just pretend not to care, as he knew his bunkmate - dare he say his _friend_? - would want. He and BJ had their goodbye to Potter all planned out. He didn't know what he would say to BJ, but he had some idea of how to start, and he'd let it go from there.

But Margaret. What could he say to her? She was as close to him as BJ was, albeit in an entirely different way. She had been his source of strength through the hardest time of his life. And chances were, he would never see her again.

"So, uh, listen," he began, but then he lost steam.

"Yeah," she replied softly, obviously in the same bind.

He wasn't sure who started it, who took the first step, but all at once they were wrapped in each other's arms and locked in a passionate kiss. He put all of his emotion, everything he didn't know how to say, into that kiss as he held her, never wanting to let go.

They broke apart after what Hawkeye thought wasn't nearly enough time and from the looks on the others' faces they all thought had been too much.

"Well - so long," he said finally.

"See ya," she replied, and Hawkeye felt a warmth inside. At least that meant she wanted to see him again.

His eyes never left her as she climbed into the jeep. For one moment, he was tempted to chase after it, to tell her how he felt. But no, they had agreed it wouldn't work.

She turned to stare at all of them, but especially at Hawkeye. For one moment, she was tempted to ask the driver to stop, to run back to him. But no, they were simply too different for anything to ever come of it.

They maintained eye contact until she was out of sight.

**Very short, I know, but it's the starting point I need. This will be the exception, not the rule.**

**All dialogue in this chapter is taken from _Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen_.**

**Please review.**


	2. Chapter Two: Home Again

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Two: Home Again**_

Hawkeye was tired. Hungry and tired. He envied the people around him, for whom flying was a much simpler proposition. But being crammed in a metal tube with so many other people had a tendency to trigger his claustrophobia. It wasn't like the cave; he wasn't in full-on panic mode, but he was anxious enough that sleep was impossible and putting anything in his stomach would have been a questionable idea at best. It usually wasn't that big of a deal, but then flying didn't usually involve crossing over ten thousand miles on four different flights. It had been over twenty hours since he'd boarded the plane at Kimpo, and he hadn't been able to sleep or eat since.

But his exhaustion, panic, and hunger were, at the moment, overwhelmed by a rush of exhilaration. Just moments earlier, the loudspeaker had announced their descent towards Portland. Portland. Maine. Home.

The plane touched down within a few minutes, though to Hawkeye it felt like hours. People began to pile off the plane, though a few looked at him and stepped back. He realized with a start that he was still in uniform, but for once it didn't bother him. Soon it would be off for good, and in the meantime if it gave him a little bit of priority access, he wasn't complaining.

The flight hadn't been full, so chaos at the gate wasn't as bad as it had been in New York or San Francisco or Tokyo. Hawkeye anxiously scanned the crowd. He wouldn't miss this, would he?

"Hawkeye! Hawk!"

Hawkeye turned and found himself face-to-face with the person he most wanted to see. "Dad!"

"Oh, Hawk." Daniel Pierce pulled his son into a tight embrace. "I've missed you so much - I've been so worried. Are you all right?"

Daniel would never forget that awful call he had recieved from Sherman Potter, telling him that his son had been raped. He clung to Hawkeye, holding him close as he'd longed to do ever since then, trying to ease any pain he still felt, trying to keep his boy safe.

Hawkeye leaned into his father's warm hug, feeling a knot of tension he hadn't even been aware of melting away. He closed his eyes against the tears of relief that threatened to spill from his eyes. "I missed you too, Dad."

"Are you all right?" he pressed. He couldn't imagine the hell Hawkeye had been through.

"I'm okay," Hawkeye whispered against his father's neck, but Daniel felt the few tears his son hadn't been able to corral on his skin.

"It's all right, son. Just let go."

That was all it took. Hawkeye wasn't entirely sure if it was pain or relief that caused it, but he started to sob right there in the airport. Daniel just kept holding him close, rubbing his back, shedding a few tears of his own. "I'm here, son. I'm here."

Hawkeye composed himself after a few minutes, wiping his eyes. "I'm sorry."

"No, Hawk." He still hadn't let up the embrace. "You needed that. Don't be sorry. I'm not. Come on, let's go get your bag so we can go home.

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"Hawkeye."

He started awake. "What? What is it?"

"Look out the window."

Hawkeye did and drew an awed breath. He knew this scenery like the back of his hand. They had just crossed the border into Crabapple Cove, and the already pretty town seemed nothing short of stunning to his war-weary eyes.

"I know you're exhausted. You fell asleep the second you sat down. But I didn't think you'd want to miss this."

Hawkeye wasn't sure he remembered how to make his voice work. He just stared, trying to take it all in. Part of him hadn't thought it was possible for his hometown to be as beautiful as he remembered. It wasn't. It was even better.

A very familiar house came into view, and Hawkeye's eyes were glued to it. The old house was far too big for two people, but it had been in the family for more than a century and Daniel wasn't about to get rid of it. It had been Hawkeye's childhood home, and the very sight of it seemed to ignite a part of him that had been still too long.

Daniel pulled up to the house and got Hawkeye's bags out of the trunk, and then stepped around his son to open the door. The younger man stepped into the entryway.

"Welcome home, son."

Hawkeye wasn't sure what it was about those three words that did it, but all at once every bit of pain and longing he had felt bubbled to the surface, and for the second time in as many hours he began to cry.

Daniel dropped Hawkeye's bags to pull his son close. Hawkeye was sobbing even harder than he had in the airport, and the older man just let him cry. The war would have been bad enough, but to put up with two violent assaults, not to mention his brief capture, on top of it must have been pure torment. It hadn't surprised Daniel a bit to hear that Hawkeye had temporarily lost it. A person could only take so much.

Daniel guided his son to the couch so the exhausted young man could sit, never letting up his embrace. He held Hawkeye like a child as he cried, and again he too could no longer hold back his tears. Hawkeye was crying too hard to notice.

"It's all right now, son, it's all right," he whispered. "I'm here. I'm here."

Hawkeye buried his face in his father's chest, breathing in his familiar scent, hearing the soft words he'd wanted to hear in this voice for so long. This brought on more tears, but for once he was absolutely sure they were tears of relief. He had wanted so badly to be in his dad's arms ever since he had first been hurt.

"Is there anything I can do?" Daniel asked when his son's tears had finally run out.

"Just being here is doing a lot," Hawkeye replied honestly, just as his stomach gave a loud growl, and he smiled a little, ruefully. "But if you really want to do something, I'm starving."

Daniel gave his son a watery smile. "I'll see what I can whip up."

xxxxxxxxx

Daniel stood in his son's doorway, reluctant to leave lest he wake up and realize the last few days had been just a dream.

Hawkeye lay sprawled on his bed, clad only in his shorts. He had wolfed down enough food for three people, which didn't surprise Daniel once he remembered that his son never ate before flying. As soon as he'd packed it all away, he'd started to fall asleep at the table and Daniel had herded him upstairs against his not-terribly-convincing protests. He had barely had the energy to get out of the despised uniform before he crashed.

Daniel stepped back inside Hawkeye's room and gently ran his hand through the younger man's gray-flecked black hair. His son's tears had been very hard for him to handle. Just thinking about how much pain Hawkeye must have been in was painful to him. What gave that awful woman Sherman Potter had told him about the right to hurt his only child?

"Goodnight, Ben," he whispered. It wasn't often that he used his son's real name. Only his beloved late wife had done that on a regular basis. He had given his son the nickname that had stuck with him when he was two years old, and he had used that ever since. But once in a while it just felt right, and this was one of those times.

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"No! Please, God, no!"

Daniel was instantly awake when he heard the screams. _Hawkeye_. He raced down the hall to his son's bedroom.

Hawkeye was twisting and turning in his bed, his entire frame shaking like a leaf. Daniel reached out and touched his shoulder gently. Hawkeye pulled away harshly.

"Hawk? Hawkeye, it's Dad. Wake up. Come on, wake up."

He shook Hawkeye gently and was gratified when his son didn't pull away. The young man's eyes opened suddenly, and he took in his father standing over him.

"Dad?"

"What is it? Nightmare?"

He nodded. "For awhile, I was getting them every night. Now it's once in a while."

"Oh, Hawk." Daniel sat on the edge of the bed to pull his son into a hug. "Hawkeye, Hawkeye."

"It's all right, Dad. I'm getting better."

He meant it to be reassuring, but his frank statement sent a pang through Daniel's heart. He didn't doubt it, and that was the problem. If this was better, how bad had he been at first?

"I wish I'd been there for you," he whispered.

"Me too," Hawkeye answered, his voice muffled by his father's robe. "I'm sorry, Dad. I know this is hard."

"Don't be sorry, this isn't your fault. It's just hard to think that you were going through that alone."

Hawkeye pulled back a fraction and shook his head. "I wasn't alone. I don't know what I would have done if I was, but I wasn't. Margaret and BJ and the others -" he swallowed the lump in his throat. "They were amazing."

Daniel patted his son's back again. "I don't doubt it." He made a mental note to thank these people the first chance he got. "Can you sleep, son?"

"I think so."

Daniel helped him lie back down. "Goodnight."

xxxxxxxxx

"How you feeling?"

"Better than I have in years," Hawkeye answered his father honestly.

"About last night -"

"Look, I know it seems bad, but believe it or not that's not the norm. I guess all the emotions running high yesterday brought it all to the surface. I probably won't have another nightmare for weeks."

"I hope not."

Hawkeye poured himself a cup of coffee and took a long drink, closing his eyes in satisfaction. "God, that's good." He opened his eyes again and grinned at his father. "That stuff they had at MASH tasted like tar."

"And just how do you know what tar tastes like?" The tease was out of Daniel's mouth before he could stop himself.

But Hawkeye laughed, and Daniel felt the distance caused by three years' separation melt away instantly. "Do you really want to know?" the younger man asked slyly.

That got Daniel laughing too, and they sat together in comfortable silence until a ring on the doorbell made them both jump. "That's probably for you, Hawk."

Hawkeye got to his feet and opened the door. "Toby!"

"Hey, Hawkeye." Toby Wilder stood on the other side of the door, grinning his head off.

Hawkeye took a step forward to hug his old friend. Instantly, Toby took a step back to match, a frown momentarily replacing his smile. "Hawkeye?"

"Sorry." Hawkeye took his own step back, sighing inwardly. He would have to remember that their definition of friendship was very different from what he had had the past three years.

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The ring of the phone was a relief to Hawkeye. Dickie Barber had dropped by about ten minutes after Toby, and the three of them - the Three Musketeers, he'd once called them - were sitting in his living room. Toby and Dickie were busily catching him up on Crabapple Cove, ribbing him, asking questions they wouldn't want the answers to if they really knew, and completely failing to notice the distance that had sprung up between them.

Once upon a time, he had thought those two were among the best friends he would ever have. The last three years had proved him so incredibly wrong. He would never have the bond with them that he had had even with someone like Charles, who pretended to despise him but was always there when he needed a shoulder to lean on, let alone the kind of friendship he had had with BJ and Margaret and yes, Trapper.

He hadn't even tried to embrace Dickie when the man had stepped through the door, and it saddened him a little. He had never really noticed before that he didn't hug any of his old friends except Tommy, but now, after those friends he had had in Korea who he had shared more than a few embraces with, it was thrown into sharp contrast. They had never been his friends, not really, not like the people he had said a very reluctant goodbye to just a few days earlier. They were his pals, people he could hang out with, but they wouldn't be there when push came to shove. Not like the friends he had had in Korea.

"I got it!" he yelled to his father as he sprinted into the study. "Hello?"

"_Hey, Hawkeye!_"

He felt like he had forgotten how to breathe for a moment there. "BJ?"

"_Direct from Mill Valley! How ya doing, Hawk?_"

"It's good to be home," he answered honestly. "Clean sheets."

"_No cockroaches._"

"Food intended to be taken internally." He grinned widely even though he knew BJ couldn't see it. "How's the rest of the Hunnicutt clan?"

"_Peg made me shave off my mustache._"

"Obviously a woman of excellent taste."

The joking tone dropped from BJ's voice as he spoke the next words. "_Erin called me daddy._"

"I'm sure she did." Hawkeye knew well how much that meant to his friend.

"_Will you think I'm crazy if I say I miss you already?_"

"If you're crazy, so am I."

"_You're crazy anyway._"

Hawkeye laughed, but the laughter died quickly. "I miss you too."

"_Yeah. But hey, it's not gonna be forever. It doesn't have to be._"

"You really think we'll see each other again?"

"_If I have anything to say about it. In the meantime, call me a couple hundred times, would you?_"

"You bet. How's it been for you, being home?"

Hawkeye was fully aware that he was leaving his childhood friends alone in the living room as he talked to BJ, but he didn't care. Compared to him, they were no friends at all.

xxxxxxxxx

"Major Margaret Houlihan?"

She didn't know why she was so apprehensive to walk into this hospital. This was what she had wanted, wasn't it? A post in a stateside hospital as a head nurse?

Saying goodbye to Charles and Father Mulcahy at the 8063 had been a wrench. They had been her last ties to the closest group of friends she would ever have. But they were going back to their civilian lives, and she was going on to her next post. It was just like she had once told Frank. Married to the army.

But for a little while, she had seen the alternative, and it was hard to resist. As strange as it was, she missed Korea.

**Sorry for the delay. Unfortunately, this wasn't finished before I had to move, and anyone who's moved knows it's sheer chaos.**

**Please review.**


	3. Chapter Three: Often Go Astray

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Three: Often Go Astray**_

Something just wasn't right.

Despite his desire for a personal relationship with his patients, Hawkeye had quickly found that the small hospital in Crabapple Cove just wasn't up to his skill set. He had begun splitting his time, working two days a week at the emergency room in Portland General, and at first that had seemed like the solution to his feeling of not fitting back into this life. But that wasn't it.

He had begun to think that his personal life was the problem. Maybe he just needed to get back in the swing of things. There was a nurse at Portland General he found attractive. Serena Barker. He approached her tentatively.

"Serena?"

"Yes, Doctor?"

He gave her his best smile. "Call me Hawkeye, and I was wondering something. Would you like to get dinner sometime?"

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"Lyle!" Margaret embraced her old friend. "Why didn't you tell me you were coming?"

The general smiled. "Well, I didn't know you were here, Major - still Major, I see," he added a little disapprovingly.

Margaret frowned and pulled away a little. She wouldn't forget soon that he had tried to bribe her with a promotion in order to get her to join his personal staff - or, as she often called it to herself, his harem. She might not have even acknowledged him, but she had very little in the way of friends here, and any friend, even one like this general, was welcome.

"I'll make it eventually," she said finally.

"I'm sure you will. Come on, let's go for a drink. What do you say?"

xxxxxxxxx

Her fingers deftly worked through the buttons of his shirt as her mouth found his. "Hawkeye," she whispered in between kisses.

He didn't have any breath to respond. He tried to lose himself in her and ignore the fact that he felt a thrill of unease when she unbuttoned his pants. It had been awhile since he'd been with anyone, and a much longer while since he'd had a woman take the lead as she was doing, that was all it was. He was just glad his father had been out of the house so they could have it to themselves. He hadn't thought to make that request. He hadn't really been planning to go to bed with her on the first date.

He was fully naked, and she hurriedly slipped off what little she was wearing before pushing him gently onto his bed. "Just relax," she whispered. "You'll like this."`

He felt her hands on him as she worked to arouse him, and he tried to relax into the sensation. But his mind seemed to have other ideas. All at once the bed became a concrete floor, her brown hair turned to blonde, and the gentle whisper of the wind became the taunts and jeers of half a dozen men. "No," he whispered.

"Why? Don't you like it?"

He tried to use her voice to anchor him, to bring him back to the present, but it didn't help. "No," he said more forcefully. "No. Stop."

"What?" She didn't heed him. Her hands were still on him.

"Stop!" He pushed her away forcefully. "For God's sake, stop."

She had finally got the message, it appeared, and she was staring wide-eyed. "What? What did I do?"

"It's not you, it's just - I can't do that right now."

"Why?"

It was too much to explain. Most people didn't really understand how what had happened to him was possible, and at any rate it was something he would prefer to keep buried in Korea. So he just shook his head. "I'm sorry."

"What is it? You don't find me attractive? You have another woman you've already sated yourself with?"

"No, no, it's not -"

"If you don't want me," she snapped, beginning to yank on her clothes, "then I don't need you."

"Serena!" he called out. She might not be exactly the woman of his dreams, but he liked her. He didn't want to lose his only chance with her. He just needed her patience, her understanding.

"Forget it." She roughly pulled her shirt over her head. "Don't bother showing me out, I can find my own way."

She stormed out angrily and Hawkeye just laid in bed, drawing a blanket up around himself. Only when he heard the front door slam did he allow a few tears to fall. He wished it didn't affect him like this, but he had no way to change that. And it had just cost him a relationship.

He hated Janice Monroe for so many reasons. This was just one more to add to the list. Even when he was rid of her, he couldn't be free of her, free of what she had done to him. Even from behind bars, she continued to haunt him.

xxxxxxxxx

"Maybe - maybe we shouldn't," Margaret mumbled through an alcohol-induced haze as the General began to undress her.

"If you really feel that way, I can stop." He ran his hand suggestively up her leg, bare thanks to the fact that he had just pulled her pants off. "Do you want me to stop?"

"No, no."

"I didn't think so." He lifted the very drunk woman onto the bed in his hotel room.

"Forgetting something," she said then.

"What?" he pressed as he finished disrobing both of them.

"I - I don't know. Don't remember. I forgot and I don't remember!" She began to laugh, but something was pressing on her mind. Yes, there was definitely something she was forgetting - what was it?

Oh, well. If she couldn't remember it couldn't be anything important.

xxxxxxxxx

"What happened with your date?"

"It didn't end well," Hawkeye replied shortly.

"You want to talk about it?" Daniel offered.

He was going to say no, but when he opened his mouth the entire story spilled out, about asking Serena out and her wanting to have sex and how pushy she had gotten and the series of flashbacks she had thrown him into that had ended with him begging her to stop and her leaving in a snit. Daniel listened, shaking his head, and gently laid a hand on Hawkeye's shoulder.

"I'm sorry," he said sincerely.

"If she wouldn't give me the leeway I needed to deal with my problems, I guess I really don't want to know her." He said it fiercely, as if trying to convince herself.

"Doesn't mean it can't hurt."

"You're right," Hawkeye replied. "I know you are. Because it does."

xxxxxxxxx

Margaret sat in her quarters, feeling miserable. She couldn't believe she had let him sleep with her.

That was the old Margaret, the Margaret that let anyone into her bed. The one that had rightfully earned the Hot Lips nickname. She had tried so hard to distance herself from that person, to become something better, someone who had her own self-esteem and didn't go throwing herself at every man she ran into. But last night, Lyle Wisecoff had managed to get her drunk enough to get Hot Lips to emerge again.

She had woken before him, fully sober if hung over, and immediately felt ashamed. She had dressed and slipped out without so much as a note. In her mind, he deserved nothing more for compromising her enough to make her compromise her values.

She wouldn't cry over this. This entire thing was her fault, and she deserved every bit of remorse and humiliation now coursing through her body. The best thing to do would be to forget it had ever happened.

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"Doctor."

"Serena, I want -"

"I don't know what you want, but it obviously isn't me."

"Serena, listen to me!"

"I did listen to you! I listened to you when you said you wanted to go out with me! I listened to you when you said you were willing to take me to bed! And look where it got me!"

She stormed off before he had a chance to respond.

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"It can't be." Margaret stared at the doctor, as if willing him to retract the news he had just given her. "It can't be true."

"It is true," he said unemotionally. "Now, we should discuss your medical needs -"

But he was left talking to her back as the woman walked out.

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"Serena, I -"

"The answer is _no_."

"Just to talk? I want to talk with you."

"I gave you a chance."

"No, you didn't. Not the chance I needed."

"Let me make this expressly clear," she hissed. "I've given you all the chances you are going to get. That was a month ago, and you haven't done anything to change my mind. The one and only thing I can say for you is that at least you haven't been harassing me. But let me give you a hint. Give up."

xxxxxxxxx

Margaret stared at the phone that had just gone dead. "Lyle -" she whispered.

She didn't like him. She was still mad at him for getting her drunk to make her more open to his propositions, not to mention the promotion 'deal'. But she needed him. She needed him to help her. But after several almost cruel insinuations he had hung up on her.

She needed him. No, not him so much, she corrected herself. He was just the person she'd gone to first. But someone. She needed someone.

_What about_ - and as soon as that thought crossed her mind, a wave of intense longing washed over her. _Yes. Yes._

She had to be crazy. She hadn't spoken to him in months. But he was her only hope.

The irony, she thought bitterly, was that she now knew exactly what it was she'd forgotten.

**Margaret's part of this is deliberately vague. What's going on will be explained in the next chapter.**

**I did the back-and-forth snippets on purpose, for a sort of contrast. This won't be the norm but I wanted to try it out.**

**General Wisecoff is a character from _Hot Lips Is Back In Town._ I used him for two reasons; he did already try to manipulate Margaret and his last name is similar to that of someone who drives me a little crazy. A certain reader will know who I mean.  
**

**Please review.**


	4. Chapter Four: The New Road

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Four: The New Road**_

Hawkeye curled into himself on the couch, trying to feel a little less miserable. It wasn't working.

The ER at Portland General had recieved a tough case that day. Two people in a bar fight, one had pulled a pocketknife and stabbed the other several dozen times, including several wounds to the throat. Hawkeye had tried his hardest but the damage had been too severe, and the patient had died on the table, to his horror and anguish. He had been shaking too hard to drive and had called a cab to bring him home, and then promptly collapsed on the couch.

It was the third week of November now, and he still couldn't seem to shake Korea. He and BJ remained in weekly contact and he was grateful beyond words for it. BJ was the best friend he had ever had and BJ understood what was going on in his life. No one else did.

Toby and Dickie had significantly decreased the frequency of their visits when they had belatedly picked up on the gap Hawkeye had noticed when he had first seen them. In any case, he wouldn't have been going to them with this problem. They wouldn't understand, and they wouldn't try to sympathize or to comfort him. The only childhood friend who might understand was Tommy - that thought, considering the reason for his mood, only made him feel worse. He still missed his old friend terribly.

Someone rapped sharply on the door and Hawkeye slowly got up to answer it. He peered into the snowy November night to see a cab driver, someone who like the rest of the town he'd known his entire life, standing on the porch.

"Kyle?"

"Got a delivery." He shrugged. "There's a girl in my cab who was specifically looking for you - one of you, anyway."

"Really?"

"She flagged me down and asked if I knew where the Pierce residence was. From out of town, I assume."

"So why are you coming to the door instead of her?"

"She almost keeled over while I was helping her out of the cab, so I put her back in and said I'd come get help. Pretty girl, but let me tell you, she needs to take better care of herself. She looks awful. Probably could use you even if she hadn't asked."

"All right, I'll come take a look." But he still couldn't figure out why a woman would have been looking for either him or his father.

Hawkeye stepped outside, shivering against the cold air, and he started to turn back to grab a coat when he heard Kyle give a soft sigh. "For God's sake. I told her to stay _in_ the car until I came back. If she'd fallen..."

Hawkeye looked where the man was looking and drew in a breath. "I don't believe it."

"I know, she already almost fell once."

But Hawkeye was no longer listening. His entire attention was fixed on the woman leaning on the cab. Forgetting all about the cold, he hurried down his front steps to where she stood.

"_Margaret_?"

"Hawkeye!" A smile lit up her tired face (Kyle had been right, she really did look awful).

"Margaret," he repeated, his voice breathy from shock. Then he did the only thing he could do - he stepped forward and pulled her into his arms. "Margaret, Margaret."

"Hawkeye," she whispered back, her face securely buried against his chest. They clung almost desperately to each other.

He moved his lips near her ear to whisper the one question he had. "What are you doing here?"

She looked up at him, and he could see that she was extremely upset. "I - I've done something stupid, and now I'm in trouble," she said finally.

"I get the feeling this is going to take awhile, and it's freezing out here. Come on in, I'll make you some hot chocolate and you can tell me about it."

"Sounds nice," she breathed.

"Come on. You got any bags?"

"Just one."

He very reluctantly let up his embrace to pick up her suitcase, escorting her into the house. "Thanks, Kyle!"

"No problem!" He called back just as Hawkeye closed the front door.

"Come on," he told Margaret, "sit down. You look out on your feet."

She sank gratefully onto his couch, feeling him help her remove her coat. She winced when he touched the bare skin on her neck. "Hawkeye, your hands are frozen."

He grinned. "Cold hands, warm heart." Then he turned serious. "What is it, Margaret?"

"What, no hot chocolate?" She pretended to pout, hoping he'd buy it so she could delay the inevitable.

"How could I ever be so careless?" He grinned disarmingly and walked into the kitchen. "It'll just be a minute," he called over his shoulder.

She laid back on the couch and studied the ornate house. It was certainly fancier than anything she had ever lived in in their multitude of army houses. She thought she could sit there for hours, just studying every little detail.

She heard Hawkeye's footsteps and sat up to take a mug from him. "This smells divine."

He smiled and sat down next to her, leaning over to give her a light kiss on the lips. She pulled away.

"I'm sorry," he said softly.

"No, no, I'm sorry, it's just -" she took a small sip from the mug in her hands. "I did one stupid thing in a moment of foolishness, and now I've ruined my whole life,"

"How bad?" There was no hint of humor in Hawkeye now. "Come on, tell me what happened."

"Do you remember General Wisecoff?"

"Sure. You got that great idea of training the nurses for triage and he came to inspect you."

"There's a part of that I never told you. After the demonstration, he approached me and offered to promote me to Lieutenant Colonel and give me a place on his staff. I turned him down."

"Why?"

"Because his personal staff was more like a personal harem. I was finally starting to get my independence back, I didn't need him to take that away from me."

"So what happened?"

"He visited the VA hospital in Virginia where I was working. Normally I wouldn't have cared, but I've had a hard time connecting with anyone back in the states, and there was somebody I'd once called a friend. He invited me out for drinks - how could I have been so stupid? So he got me really drunk, and then he took me back to his hotel room, and we - we -" She made a soft sound of frustration. "I swore to myself I would never go back to being Hot Lips Houlihan, not after you helped me come so far, but that night I did."

"It's okay, Margaret." He rubbed her arm gently. "You made a mistake is all. Everyone does. It's okay."

"No! You don't understand. It's not that simple and it's not okay. I can't just move past it. We were really drunk, and I knew we were forgetting _something_ but I didn't know what, and, well, I know now, you see - I'm pregnant."

"Uh-huh." Hawkeye processed this information, hoping his shock didn't show on his face. "How long?"

"That night was four weeks ago. As soon as I was, you know, late, I had a test done. I suspected."

"Have you told him?"

"I called him. He asked how I could be sure it was his. Then he hung up on me."

"That -" Hawkeye trailed off, unable to come up with an appropriate insult. His teeth were gritted in anger. She'd had enough people take advantage of her already.

"So here I am. My career is over and I'm stuck with a baby whose father wants nothing to do with it and no way to support myself, let alone a child." Her voice cracked a little.

"What do you need from me?" he asked.

"I don't know," she admitted. "I don't even know why I'm here, except that I couldn't be there anymore You're the one person who's always been there for me, no matter what, and I just expected - I don't even know what I expected, except that you wouldn't judge. It was one of the most impulsive things I've ever done, jumping on a plane and coming out here, but I -"

"Shh." He cut her off gently, taking her mug from her hands and placing it on the table so he could take her in his arms. "What's important is that you're here now. You're here, and I'm here for you, and it's going to be okay."

"How? I don't even have a place to live, and I barely have any money. What am I supposed to do?"

"You have a place here." It was out of his mouth before he was aware of it.

"I couldn't."

"Yes, you can." He rested his chin on the top of her head. "You said yourself you don't have anywhere to go. Why not stay here?"

"I -" she didn't have a reason, and that was the worst part. His offer was so tempting.

"If you're worried about repaying me, don't. I _want_ you here. You'd be doing me as much good by staying as you'd be doing yourself. I need someone here who can help me, someone who understands what it was like out there. You're that person, Margaret. We can help each other."

She buried her face deeper in his neck, knowing the battle was lost. "Okay. I'll stay."

xxxxxxxxx

"Have you heard anything from the other members of the 4077th?"

Hawkeye had taken her bag up to a guest room and returned to find her sitting on the couch, where he had joined her, falling easily back into their old rhythm. "A few. Potter writes now and again. BJ and I talk every week," he admitted with a smile. He knew she would understand. He debated for a moment whether or not to reveal what BJ had just told him, but decided his friend would likely have no objections. "BJ and Peg are going to have another baby."

"When?" Margaret asked.

"Early April." He could see Margaret's mind working, doing the same calculations he had when BJ had first told him. "Makes you wonder what they did his first night home, doesn't it?"

She laughed a little. "He happy?"

"You kidding? Over the moon."

"Peg's lucky," she said wistfully.

"Hey." He hugged her gently. "I told you. We'll make it work."

"What am I supposed to tell my kid when he asks where his daddy is?"

"You'll figure it out. _We'll_ figure it out." An idea had occured to him, but it felt too soon to mention it. Maybe in a few days, when this wasn't all new, when she'd had a few days to adjust to being in his house. "Come on, you're tired. Bedtime."

"You don't look so great yourself."

In the shock over seeing her, to say nothing of her news, he had forgotten about the day he'd had. He wished it could have stayed forgotten. "Just a rough day at work."

"What happened?"

He sighed deeply. "I lost a patient," he said finally. "I tried everything - he was just too badly hurt."

She touched his shoulder. "I'm sorry."

"Thanks." He drew a deep breath. "It's just - that was a Korea thing in my mind. I guess somehow I imagined that when I came home all the death would stop, and for the most part it has, but a day like today happens and -" he choked.

"I know," she said softly. "Would you rather I stayed in your room tonight?"

"You sure?"

"It's not like we'd do anything. We'd just be able to be close. Like we used to - over there." She hoped he would say yes. She wanted to be with him as much as she could see he wanted to be with her.

"If you want to."

"Just show me where it is."

He led her up the stairs. "Your room is here." He indicated the guest room. "That's where I left your bag. And mine is here."

"Give me a few minutes and I'll be right in."

Hawkeye went into his room and pulled off his work clothes, sliding into a pair of pajamas and wearily landing on his bed, realizing just how exhausted he was. Only a few minutes later, Margaret came into his room in her own pajamas and a dressing gown which she dropped on a chair before climbing into bed beside Hawkeye and curling up with him.

"What would your father say if he saw this?" she asked, curling into his shoulder.

"He wouldn't care. If he asks, I'll explain." He closed his eyes, pulling her tight so there wasn't an inch of space between. "God, you feel good." She did. It felt wonderful to hold her, like a missing piece finally slipping back into place. He hadn't realized how much he had missed her.

"So do you." She nestled her head in his shoulder. "I really missed you."

"Yeah. Me too." He buried his face in her hair, breathing in the familiar scent. "Sleep, Margaret. I've got you. Sleep."

xxxxxxxxx

Hawkeye woke early, smiling to himself as he felt Margaret still snug in his arms. It felt to him like she belonged there. No woman had ever felt quite that way in his arms - not even his former long-term girlfriend Carleye.

He ran his fingers through her hair, noticing with a smile that it was no longer white-blonde all over. It was still a light color, but it was more of a reddish-blonde shade. The roots were still white-blonde where she retained the remnants of years of bleaching. _I always knew that wasn't her real color. _He kissed the top of her head lightly.

Over in Korea, the idea of this had been a fond wish at best. She had one set of plans, and he had another. That was just the way it was. But now, that had all changed. She no longer had the life she had so carefully planned for herself, and he was genuinely sorry for her. But this changed everything. Suddenly, that barrier that was her Army career was gone, and he wasn't at all sure how to react. The last thing in the world he wanted was to scare or hurt her. That General had done plenty of that, and he was just the last of a long list. Hawkeye had vowed long ago that he would never do that to her, and laying there with her in his arms he renewed that vow.

She had asked him, what felt like a lifetime ago, what he would have done if a pregnancy that had turned out to be a false alarm had been the real thing, and if it had turned out that, as had been possible, the baby had been his and not Donald Penobscott's.

_Would you have been there for him or her? _she had asked.

_For the baby and for you_, he had replied without a second's hesitation._ Every step of the way._

He brushed his hand almost reverently over Margaret's still-flat belly, and made another vow to the baby that lay within. The baby was hers, and he cared for it for that reason alone.

"Every step of the way, Margaret," he whispered so quietly she didn't even stir. "Every step of the way."

**This was supposed to be longer, but I had to rewrite this bit a few times before I was satisfied and I decided I'd made you wait long enough without taking the time to add more.**

**This chapter contains a reference to the episode _What's Up, Doc?_**

**Please review.**


	5. Chapter Five: Everyone Says I Love You

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Five: Everyone Says I Love You**_

Margaret stepped out of the bathroom, still looking a little green. "Of everything that comes with being pregnant," she grumbled, "I think morning sickness is the worst."

Hawkeye helped her sit. "Your doctor didn't give you any tips to help?"

"I haven't seen a doctor," she admitted. "Not unless you count the one who gave me the pregnancy test."

Hawkeye gave her a concerned look. "You should."

"What can a doctor tell me? That there's a baby inside me? I think I figured that one out already."

He grinned at her. "I've missed you, Margaret." That attitude was so uniquely hers, it reminded him how different his life had been without her. "God only knows why."

She whacked him with a pillow, and he laughed. He took another pillow and threw it at her gently. "Margaret, I want you to see a doctor. We need to make sure you - both of you - are healthy." He cupped his hand gently over her belly. "I don't want anything to happen to you or the baby."

"Why are you so worried?" she asked softly. "It's not like it's yours."

"But it's yours, and that alone means I care." He slid over a little until he could get his shoulder behind her so she could lean back on him. "Besides, I know that childbearing can be dangerous for the mother. I need to make sure you're safe."

"Why?"

He looked deep into her blue eyes. "Don't you know, Margaret?"

"Hawkeye..."

"I love you, Margaret. I've loved you for years. And if you don't stop me, I'm going to kiss you right now."

He leaned into her, covering her lips gently with his own. She was responsive, leaning in herself, deepening the kiss, feeling his lips move gently against hers, his tongue exploring her lips. She gave a soft gasp and pulled back suddenly.

"What am I doing?" she whispered.

"Whatever it is," he told her, remembering a nurse that had once caught his fancy, "I approve."

"Hawkeye, for God's sake, I'm pregnant."

"Baby's not going to be jealous." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Margaret, what's wrong?"

"I don't know," she whispered.

"Does this feel wrong?"

"No. _No_. I can't remember the last time anything felt so right. But Hawkeye, I'm pregnant."

"I know, you said that already." He smiled. "What does it matter? It doesn't make you any less you. It doesn't change you from the woman I fell in love with."

"Even if I'm carrying someone else's child?"

"If the baby's father were starting up a relationship, would it make a difference that he had a child with you?"

"No. Of course not. I'd be surprised if he even mentioned it."

"So why should it matter to you? Because the baby is in your body and not his?"

"Hawkeye -"

"Margaret, _I don't care_."

She meant to say something, but instinct took over and instead she leaned forward and kissed him firmly. He pulled her close, and they shared a kiss longer than the one they had had next to the jeep the day they had said goodbye.

"Margaret," he whispered when they came up for air, "let's get married."

"What?"

"Let's get married," he repeated. "We could be a family together."

"No. No, I can't."

"Why?" he whispered, his lips only inches from her ear.

"I promised myself I would never marry again for any reason except love," she whispered back.

"I _do_ love you."

"I know. But you wouldn't have proposed today if I wasn't pregnant." She placed another, brief kiss on his lips. "I love you too, Hawkeye. And maybe someday I'll say yes. But when I do, I want to know that you proposed only because of love, not because of the baby."

"What did you say?" he asked breathlessly.

"I said I want to know you proposed solely out of love."

"No, before that."

She smiled. "I said I love you too, you goofball."

He pulled her close, relishing the feeling of her body against his. "Then at least stay here with me. Let me be a part of your lives - both of you. Please. I don't want us to be apart again."

"Niether do I."

"We'll teach the baby to call me Daddy," he said softly. "Then someday, when you're ready, I'll ask you the question again. And we can really be a family."

"You'd really do that? Be a father to my child?"

"You're a package deal." He grinned for a second before dropping all signs of joking. "Your baby deserves a real father, not a distant story about a man who didn't want to know him or her. I always figured I'd have kids someday. What better than to have them with the woman I love?"

"But it's not yours."

"Yes, it is." He laid his hand over her stomach. "It takes a hell of a lot more to be a father than getting a woman pregnant. I may not have created that child, but I'm going to be its father."

"Hawkeye." She met his eyes squarely. "Are you sure?"

"I don't break my promises, Margaret."

"That's not what I mean. It's just, I know you have issues with little kids."

"Had. I _had_ issues. I was able to operate on that child in Korea. I'm able to be around the kids here in the Cove. And I _will _be a father to this baby."

She laughed lightly, and he gave her a quizzical look. "What?"

"All the time I was in Korea, I despaired of ever finding the right man for me, and I went through a series of jerks trying. I even married a jackass looking for that perfect man. And all the time, the man I was looking for was right in front of me."

"And I went through woman after woman looking for the one that was right for me, and all the time she was right there, holding me up when I was ready to fall."

Their mouths met in another passionate kiss that left them both breathless. "Margaret," Hawkeye whispered when he got his breath back.

"Yes?"

"Don't think you've distracted me with this. I still want you to see a doctor."

She smiled a little. "Ah, you've seen right through my scheme."

He grinned back, placing a light kiss on her nose. "Seriously. If it's going to be my baby, I want it to be healthy."

"All right," she conceded finally. "Who delivers the babies around here?"

"My dad, usually. Don't worry, he's the best. Believe me. I've known him my whole life."

She giggled a little. "All right. Fine."

xxxxxxxxx

"Well, Doctor?"

Hawkeye had sent her in alone at her request. She wanted to have the examination done without the whole weight of everything between the two of them hanging over it.

"You're very lucky," he said softly. "You're six weeks along, you really should have seen a doctor before now."

Margaret hid a smile. He really did sound just like his son. "But the baby's okay?"

"The baby's fine. There is one thing that's odd, though."

"What?" She was surprised at the sudden worry that ran through her. "What is it?"

"Well, either your baby has two hearts, or -" he trailed off, waiting for her to make the connection.

"Two babies?" she gasped. "Twins?"

He grinned, and it struck her strongly that he had the same smile as Hawkeye. "Twins," he confirmed. "You and your husband are going to have your hands full."

She felt her heart sink a little at the reminder. It must have showed on her face, because Daniel Pierce's smile dropped instantly. "I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

"I, uh," she flailed for an answer and finally settled on the half-truth she had used when asking for a pregnancy test. "I'm divorced."

"I'm sorry," he said again. "Will you be staying around here for awhile?"

She raised an eyebrow in surprise, and he smiled. "In a place like this, everyone knows everyone. I've never seen you before, so I know you're not from here. Don't worry, I don't care. Our arms are open to everyone."

She had to wonder just how open his arms would be when he realized her connection to his son.

xxxxxxxxx

"Hey, Dad?"

Daniel Pierce looked up. "What's up, Hawk? You don't work today - do you?"

"No, Dad." He couldn't help smiling at the slightly panicked look on the older man's face. "Your memory's fine. I need to talk to you."

"Sure. What's up?"

"You had a patient today. A pregnant woman you've never met before."

"That's right."

"I sent her." He saw the look on Daniel's face and barely stifled a laugh. "No, it's nothing like that. But that woman is Margaret."

"I know her name -" then he faltered as his brain caught up with his mouth. "From Korea?"

Hawkeye nodded. "I hadn't seen her in months and then she appeared on the front walkway last night and told me she was pregnant. The father ran out on her."

"Her ex-husband."

He frowned. "Is that what she told you?"

"Now that I think of it," he admitted, "no. She implied it. I made a mention of a husband, she told me she was divorced. I just assumed she meant it was the father."

"As I'm sure she intended." He smiled now. "She's really something. I, uh, I told her she could stay with us. The army booted her out when the test came back positive. You don't mind, do you?" he asked anxiously.

"Of course not. I owe her." He knew that Margaret was a major part of the reason he'd gotten his son back in one piece after everything that had happened to him. Even now, he could see a subtle change in his son, as if a weight had lifted from his shoulders.

"And you should know, I've told her that I intend to raise her baby as my own."

"Are you sure?"

He sighed. "Yes, Dad. I'm sure. Just because I had the breakdown -"

"That's not what I'm talking about. I just think you may be getting yourself into more than you realize."

xxxxxxxxx

"Twins?"

Margaret nodded, surprised at how happy she felt. "Come June, we'll have two additions to our little family."

He kissed her firmly on the mouth and then pulled her close. "Can I tell BJ now?"

"How often do you two talk anyway?" she laughed. "Sure, go ahead."

"I love you so much," he whispered.

"How many times are you going to say that today?"

"I'm making up for lost time. I couldn't say it in Korea, and then for months I didn't see you at all. Until I've said it for all the times I never did, you'll have to put up with it."

She smiled. "I'll manage. Somehow."

xxxxxxxxx

"I got it." BJ hopped up before his three-months-pregnant wife could try to get off the couch. "Hello?"

"_Hey, Beej!_"

"Hawkeye! What are you doing calling so early?"

"_I've got something to tell you. You sitting down?_"

"No."

"_Well, sit down._"

"Okay." He frowned a little and sat. "Now, what's up?"

BJ was glad he was sitting when he heard what Hawkeye had to say, but it didn't stop him from dropping the phone and having to scramble for it. "You're _joking_," he sputtered when he finally got it back to his ear.

"_Even I couldn't make this one up._"

"When's the baby due?"

"_June. But it's babies, not baby._"

BJ almost dropped the phone for the second time in as many minutes. "_What_?"

"_Twins. She's having twins._"

"Only you, Hawkeye, could fall in love with a woman and have her show up on your doorstep pregnant with twins. How are you holding up?"

"_Couldn't be happier_," he replied honestly. "_Well, actually I could. But that's only because she won't marry me._"

"You actually asked?"

"_Yep._"

"And she said no?"

"_She said she wanted to be sure I wasn't doing it because she was pregnant._"

"In other words, maybe later."

"_Right_." BJ could almost hear Hawkeye's smile. "_I think I'm starting to understand why you went so crazy being away from your family_."

"Hawkeye Pierce, settling down. I never thought I'd see the day."

Hawkeye laughed again, and BJ joined him.

**I know, I know, this took forever! I'm sorry!**

**The chapter title is the name of a song from a Mark Brothers movie. Appropriate, don't you think?**

**Please review.**


	6. Chapter Six: Moving Towards Something

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Six: Moving Towards Something**_

"_Hawkeye_!"

He sprinted down two flights of stairs when he heard Margaret shout. "What? What is it?"

"Come here!" She grabbed his hand and pulled him towards where she sat on the couch, bringing that hand to rest on her rounded, four-months-pregnant belly. "Feel this."

"Feel -" but Hawkeye trailed off as he felt something hit his hand. "Is that..."

"One of them is kicking." Her blue eyes were wide with wonder. "They're really in there, Hawkeye. There are real little people in there."

He pulled her close and kissed her, lifting her clear off the ground in his joy. If he had thought of the babies as his when Margaret had first told him she was pregnant, they had only become his more as they had grown, as he had watched Margaret's flat belly start to round out, laid beside her with his hand on the slowly-expanding bump that held the two tiny babies.

This was exactly, he knew now, what he had needed. This was the piece he had been missing. Margaret and the rest of the 4077 staff had been such a part of his daily life for almost three years that suddenly being thrust into a world where no one understood his experiences and few even bothered to try had been more traumatic than he had realized. Leaving some of the closest friends he had ever had behind and returning to a place where he had no true friends had been more of an adjustment than he was able to make easily.

He had seen even less of Toby and Dickie since Margaret's arrival, both by his choice and theirs, and that was fine by him. He had no desire to spend time with them when he could be with Margaret instead, and they had been put off when he had bluntly told them that the circumstances of her pregnancy were none of their business.

He had run into Serena again, and though he hadn't really paid attention to her it had brought up the painful feelings that had come with the experience he had had with her. It had, predictably, been Margaret he had spoken to.

_Margaret hadn't taken her eyes off Hawkeye, who hadn't looked anywhere but the blanket, the whole time he was telling her what had happened with Serena. A few tears sparkled in her eyes as she placed her hands on his back._

_"Forget her, Hawkeye. She's not worth your pain."_

_"What's wrong with me?" he asked. "I used to be the Casanova of the 4077, now I can't even be touched there without having a panic attack."_

_"Nothing's wrong with you," she whispered, scooting closer so that only the small bump of her ten-week belly separated them. "You were hurt. It's not your fault. And it's not your fault she couldn't be sensitive to you."_

_Her lips found his, a gentle kiss, but he deepened it. Before she really knew what she was doing, she was deepening it further, responding to him. His hands started to unbutton her shirt._

_"Hawkeye," she gasped, reluctantly pulling away, "are you sure?"_

_"I'm sure," he whispered back. "You'll take care of me, won't you?"_

_"You know I will."_

It had been even more wonderful than the night they had spent together in that abandoned hut, and not just because shells weren't falling around him and he wasn't injured. That first night had been a mistake - the most wonderful mistake of his life, but a mistake nonetheless. She had belonged to another man, and while she wasn't the first married woman he had ever slept with (that dubious honor belonged to Carleye) that didn't change the fact that it had been wrong. Now she was his. There wasn't a single thing wrong with what he had done that night, and he knew there would probably be no one else, ever. And, as he thought with a smile, it wasn't like he could get her pregnant.

"Have you given any more thought to what I asked you?" He wasn't exactly sure why that came out, except that he had just fallen even more in love with her than he had been, if that was even possible.

A puzzled look crossed her face. "What you asked me when?"

He shouldn't have been surprised. It had been months ago that he had asked. "About marriage." Keeping one hand cupped over her belly, he pulled her into him. "It's not about the babies, Margaret. It's about you. It's about how much I love you."

"Hawkeye -" her blue eyes met his. "I can't. Not yet."

"Why?" he asked. "What's holding you back?"

She blinked hard, and he could see tears starting to form in her eyes. He sat down next to her, drawing her back into his chest. "What is it, Margaret? What's wrong?"

"I'm scared," she whispered.

"Of what?"

"Of marriage. After what happened last time -"

"I know it was bad," he soothed, "but this wouldn't be anything like that."

"You don't know the half of it," she replied bitterly.

"What are you talking about?"

"There are things I never told you about my first marriage."

His eyes clouded with worry. "Worse than when he drugged and raped you?"

She shook her head and felt him relax against her. "But more," she added. "That was just the end result."

"What are you talking about?" The concern he'd momentarily let fade away was back full force.

"I told you about how he changed suddenly on my honeymoon - but it wasn't quite true that he stopped doing everything." She shut her eyes hard against her tears and because she didn't want to see his reaction. "As soon as we got home from the party, he slapped me. For the next day, his hands and fists did all the talking. That's why I left early - but he only got worse the next time I saw him because I left. He wanted to make it clear who was in control."

"_Margaret_." His voice was strained.

"I was _relieved_ when he ran out on me. Upset that he hadn't given me a chance, but relieved that now I had a reason to divorce him.

"Him beating you wasn't enough?"

"Hawkeye -" she stopped, sighing. "It sounds so stupid now, but at the time I felt like it was something I was doing wrong. I felt like if I could just be the wife he wanted, he would stop hurting me." She leaned back into his chest. "For weeks after every vacation I had to make sure there was no one in the showers before I went in because there were bruises and marks all over me, and I thought it was my fault."

"It wasn't," he told her bluntly, resting his cheek on the top of her head "I would never hurt you, Margaret. You know that, right?"

She burrowed her head into his shoulder, finally opening her eyes. "I do. I know. But I'm scared all the same."

"I won't push you." He cuddled her close. "I never want you to be afraid of me."

She turned a little. "Oh, Hawkeye, you have nothing to worry about. You reached out a hand to help me out of a dark place, and you made me feel safe when I thought no one gave a damn. When I didn't know where to turn, when Donald finally took things too far, I knew I could turn to you. I just - I'm not ready yet, not after what happened my first time around."

"That's okay." He held her close, struggling not to cry himself.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you."

"Don't," he whispered into her hair. "It just hurts to know someone hurt you."

They sat there, holding each other, for a long time. Hawkeye's hand was resting on her belly, feeling the baby, _his_ baby, move inside her.

He looked down to see that she had fallen asleep in his arms, her head resting on his chest. He had no desire to disturb her. He leaned back further, bringing her to rest against him more fully. He felt another gentle kick against his hand.

"Shh," he whispered to his baby. "Mommy needs to sleep now."

His eyelids grew heavy, and he laid his head on top of hers. Surely it couldn't hurt to close his eyes for a few minutes.

xxxxxxxxx

Daniel frowned a little when he realized the lights were still on in the living room. Hawkeye really needed to learn to turn it off before he went to bed.

He walked into the living room and stopped suddenly when he saw his son and Margaret asleep on the couch. He smiled, picking up a blanket from a nearby chair to cover them both.

As he tucked it around them, he gently patted Hawkeye's back and ran his fingers through Margaret's hair. His family might not be a normal one, but it was all he needed.

**I've been working on Margaret's backstory with her marriage for awhile because in pretty much all real-life stories of abusive relationships it starts small. It didn't seem realistic for her to go from nothing to him raping her, and I did allude to this some time ago (late in _When You Need Me Most_).**

**I already know what the babies are going to be and what I'm going to name them. Feel free to make suggestions but I'm not changing my mind.**

**Please review.**


	7. Chapter Seven: The Accident

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Seven: The Accident  
**_

There was only one word on Hawkeye's lips. "Margaret! Margaret!"

He shook his head, trying desperately to clear his head, trying to clear a little of the debris off his body to get to the woman who had been standing just feet from him, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory.

It locked finally, but that was hardly promising. The only thing it told him was just how bad this was likely to be.

_"Hawkeye, I swear, if you don't give me back my purse right this minute..."_

_He darted out of her range again, laughing. "Come and get it!"_

_"No fair!" She gave him an exaggerated pout. "I'm the one who's huge because I have two babies inside me!"_

_Laughing even harder now, he spun out of her grasp. Exasperated, she slapped him on the arm._

_"Hitting me isn't exactly the best way to get your purse back." He ran off towards the next aisle of the small Portland grocery store, hearing her indignantly calling out his name._

_Then he heard a boom. A crash. He turned, horrified, to see a car coming through the wall. "Margaret!" he screamed. "Margaret!"_

_He turned to sprint back to her, and a shelf hit him in the back. He tried to push it off , but more fell on top of it, and he fell to the floor, his vision blurring._

"Margaret!" He shouted again, hearing the sirens. "Margaret!"

He oriented himself as best he could without the aisles being in the right place, digging through the rubble as close as he could figure to where she had been, hearing sirens in the distance.

His hand hit something soft, and the realized it was hair. Reddish-blonde hair winding around his fingers. "Margaret!" He dug harder, trying to move more rubble off her, uncovering her head and shoulders. Wrapping his arms under her shoulders, he pulled hard, tugging her free. She slid out of the rubble, lying limply in his arms. He began to feel her body, searching her for injuries, suppressing a cry when he realized there was blood on her skirt.

The door was forced open and several rescue workers came running in. Hawkeye stood, waving down the nearest worker. "Help. Please. My girlfriend - she's pregnant and she's bleeding, she's unconscious."

He knelt again and the worker knelt with him, examining her. "Are _you_ all right, sir?"

"Bruised, possible broken rib." He reached across Margaret and winced. "Yeah, broken rib, may have hit my head but I don't have any memory loss. I've had worse. Take care of Margaret."

"I'd like you to come with us."

Hawkeye nodded. Not only was he aware that he probably did need attention, but joining them would mean he could stay with his family, with Margaret and the twins.

She moaned a little as she was loaded onto the stretcher, and it was the most beautiful sound he had ever heard. He tried to swing himself into the ambulance but gasped in pain from his broken rib, and one of the workers took his arms and pulled him in. He sat down next to her stretcher, laying his head on her rounded, seven-month belly. "Be okay," he whispered. "Please be okay."

xxxxxxxxx

Hawkeye pushed his way into Margaret's hospital room, ignoring the doctors trying to look after him. "How is she?"

The doctor looked up. "You her husband?"

"Would it change something if I said I was?" As the doctor hesitated, he pressed on. "I'm the father of those babies. Please."

He nodded resignedly. "All right."

"I'm a doctor. What can you tell me about her condition?"

"She's going to be fine, but her amniotic sac has ruptured. We're going to have to deliver the babies."

He met the other doctor's eyes, hoping the tears shining in his eyes didn't show. "Will they survive?"

"There's a good chance, but we can't be sure."

Margaret turned her head, moaning softly. Hawkeye cupped her cheek gently. "Margaret?"

Her eyes fluttered open. "What happened?"

"Some idiot decided he wanted to park _inside_ the store. How do you feel?"

"Sore, but I don't think anything's broken. Where am I?"

"You're in the hospital. You were unconscious."

"Oh!" She gasped suddenly. "What was that?"

"What?"

"My stomach. Ah! Hawkeye, what's happening?"

He laid his hand on her rippling belly. "You're in labor. The accident broke your water, you're going to have to have the babies now."

She met his eyes. "I'm scared."

"I know." He slid his hand into hers. "Hold onto me. It's going to be okay." He prayed he wasn't lying to her.

xxxxxxxxx

A loud cry pierced the room, coinciding with another scream from Margaret. "One of the babies is out," Hawkeye told her gently. He glanced over at the doctor. "What is it?"

The doctor toweled off the baby and handed it to Margaret. "Take a look for yourself."

Margaret peeked under the blanket and smiled. "It's a girl." Then a moan escaped from her lips. "And I think her brother or sister is coming."

Hawkeye took the baby from her arms and cuddled her briefly before handing her back to the doctor, who carefully placed her in an incubator.

"Come on, Margaret," he urged gently. "Push."

She did, her scream echoing off the ceiling. A few more pushes and the second baby was out too, sliding into the doctor's hands. It cried, but it sounded weaker, and they shared a look of concern.

The baby was wrapped up and handed to Margaret. Hawkeye leaned over. "Well?"

"Another girl." Margaret smiled, stroking her cheek. A tiny hand came up and clamped around her finger.

She laughed delightedly and Hawkeye joined her.

The doctor stood over them. "I'm sorry to break this up, but we need to get her into an incubator as well.

Margaret reluctantly handed over her daughter, yawning widely. "What do you think, Hawkeye? What should we call them?"

They had gone over some names, but never really settled on something they liked. "I think we'd better get to work."

She smiled at him. "What did you say your mother's name was again?"

"Elizabeth," he replied. "Elizabeth Adrienne."

"I want them to have names that have something in common but aren't too much alike," she said softly. "I mean, they are twins, and the names should acknowledge that, but I don't want them feeling like we think of them as the same person, you know? They're twins but they're also individuals."

He nodded. "What are you thinking?"

"Maybe the same first letter but then not anything else. Get me a pad of paper and a pen."

"Margaret, you just gave birth. You should rest."

"I need to do this." She met his eyes. "Hawkeye -"

"Okay, okay. But if I get the slightest hint you're tired, this is over until you get some sleep."

xxxxxxxxx

"Well?" Hawkeye all but held his breath.

"I like it!"

"You sure you don't mind -"

"I'm sure."

He looked over her shoulder one more time, at the four words embossed in her messy handwriting.

_Alaina Margaret_

_Adrienne Millicent_

The first name was based on Margaret's former commanding officer and best friend, Elaine Marquette. They had tossed around various versions of the name with both the first and middle names of Hawkeye's mother, but Margaret had been somewhat in love with his mother's middle name, and he liked it too. What had surprised him had been her idea of a middle name for his second child. She had assured him she didn't resent his past history with women, and he didn't resent hers, but it had surprised him that she had proposed naming their child after a woman he had once dated. Then again, Millicent Carpenter, and the words she had left behind after her death, had been a catalyst for a lot of what they'd been keeping hidden.

The doctor stepped into the room and frowned a little when he saw that Margaret wasn't sleeping, but said nothing on the subject when he noticed two pairs of blue eyes staring intently.

He broke the silence first. "The first baby is doing fine. Small and weak, but she'll be all right."

Hawkeye saw his own simultaneous relief and terror echoed in Margaret's face. On one hand, they had had no way until this point to be sure that either baby would be okay. On the other, why would they create this separation unless there was a difference?

"And the second?" Margaret finally whispered.

The look on his face said it all, even before he spoke. "We don't know yet. She's a lot worse off than her sister. The next few days will be the most important."

He left, and they just stared at each other. Margaret spoke first. "She'll be okay. She has to."

Hawkeye just nodded, lost for words. "Go to sleep. I promise I'll wake you if anything happens."

Margaret looked like she wanted to protest, but her eyelids were drooping, and he knew she couldn't deny her own exhaustion. She was out before her head hit the pillow.

Hawkeye wrapped his arms around her, letting his own head rest on the headboard. _She'll be okay_, he repeated to himself. _She has to._

**I know, you probably all hate me now for leaving you hanging like this. I'll do my best to update soon.**

**Please review.**


	8. Chapter Eight: The Past is the Future

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Eight: The Past is the Future**_

The screaming seemed to ring in his ears, the baby's cries. Everyone else had turned to look. Terror was written on every face.

Hawkeye couldn't think. The only thing he could do was remember the last time he'd been careless and let himself fall into North Korean hands, everything he'd been forced to go through. _Not again, please, not again_.

He spoke without thinking. "Keep that damn baby quiet!" he hissed, anger masking the terror in his voice.

Then the crying stopped, as abruptly as if someone had thrown a switch. The first thought in Hawkeye's mind was relief, followed by panic. He'd wanted the baby to be quiet, but that sudden silence just didn't happen with babies. He turned back to the woman to see what had happened.

The baby's head flopped back limply, and the mother was sobbing silently. He realized what had happened, and it staggered him. In his selfishness, he had killed that child.

He jerked awake, gasping. He was slumped over Margaret as he lay beside her in her hospital bed.

He reached out, pulling her close, and it was only then that he realized his whole body was shaking. He buried her face in her blond hair.

This was his fault too. If he hadn't been playing around with Margaret, they would have been in a different part of the store, further from the front, when the car came through the wall. Tears fell freely, and he stifled his sobs so he wouldn't wake Margaret, who lay there exhausted from giving birth.

"Hawkeye?"

He sat up, looking over at the doorway where the voice had come from. "Dad?"

"I heard there was an accident. Are you two okay?"

He nodded, but a lump stuck in his throat. "Margaret had the babies," he whispered.

Daniel nodded grimly, knowing as well as Hawkeye did how early they were. "How are they?"

"Alaina's fine." He had taken almost instantly to the names they had chosen. "But Adrienne - they're not sure yet." He choked.

Daniel stepped forward and put his arms around his son. He wanted to reassure him that it would be okay, but he knew that wasn't necessarily true. "Two little girls?"

Hawkeye nodded, and in spite of his concern a prideful smile split his face. "Two beautiful little girls."

Daniel smiled too. "It's a wonderful feeling, isn't it? That's how I felt when your mother had you."

"I look at them, and they seem perfect. I mean, I know they're way too early, that Adrienne is really sick, but when I looked at them they were the most perfect babies I'd ever seen."

He rubbed his son's back. "Father's prerogative, Hawk. How's Margaret?"

"Tired and banged up, but fine. She wouldn't go to sleep until we'd named the babies." He smiled again despite himself. "I wonder if they'll be as stubborn as their mother?"

"If just one of them is half as stubborn, you'll have your hands full."

Hawkeye laughed. "Am I crazy to say I'm looking forward to it?"

"Yes. But you'll realize that yourself soon enough."

xxxxxxxxx

"Hawkeye. Hawkeye."

He jerked awake again. He hadn't meant to fall asleep after waking from his nightmare, but his injured body had overridden conscious thought and he had nodded off against the headboard with his father nearby in a chair. At the moment, however, Daniel was nowhere to be found.

He followed the source of the sound to the woman lying beside him. "How are you feeling?"

"Sore." She tried to sit up and winced a little. "But I delivered enough babies in Korea to know this was part of the package. How are they?"

"Right now, doing well." Daniel stepped back in carrying a bag. "Anyone hungry? I brought breakfast."

Hawkeye reached for the bag to sort out the takeout. "You saw the girls? Did you talk to the doctors? What did they say?"

Daniel couldn't help a small smile at this barrage of questions. "I saw them, and they're both absolutely beautiful." His smile widened as Margaret and Hawkeye exchanged smiles of their own. "And yes, I spoke to the doctor." He steeled himself now, wishing he could tell them something better. "They said the situation is the same as last night. The first baby - Alaina, right? - is going to be fine. But they still don't know about Adrienne."

The look that passed between the younger couple this time was anything but pleased. Margaret leaned into Hawkeye and he pulled her close. "We have to hope for the best, Major baby. We have to."

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Hawkeye woke when he realized someone was standing in the doorway. Squinting at the clock, he realized it was after midnight. Why was someone - a nurse, he guessed by the uniform - standing in the doorway after midnight?

He had spent the entire day in Margaret's room except for his regular passes by the nursery and five minutes he had taken out to call BJ and tell him what had happened. His friend had shared both Hawkeye's joy and concern and urged him to call as soon as they had news - any news. BJ's own child was due to be born any day now.

"Hello?" he whispered, trying not to disturb Margaret.

The nurse came in, and the look on her face was enough to send Hawkeye's concern through the roof. "I think you should wake Ms. Houlihan. This is something you both need to hear."

"Margaret." He shook her gently. "Margaret!"

Her army nurse instincts were clearly still there; she was fully awake in seconds. "What is it?"

He nodded to the nurse, who looked between them with that expression that so troubled him. "I'm afraid I have bad news. Your daughter, Adrienne, has begun having respiratory problems. We don't think she's going to survive."

Margaret gave a dry sob and buried her face in Hawkeye's chest. He held her numbly, still trying to process what he'd heard. _This can't be happening this can't be happening this can't be happening._

"Another nurse is bringing her in. I thought you'd want a chance to spend some time with her."

As if on cue, the other nurse appeared and wordlessly placed the baby in Margaret's arms, a look of incredible sympathy in her eyes. Both their eyes were glued to her.

The tubes had been removed from her body. There was no sign of how sick she was. She looked peaceful.

She made a soft sound and her tiny mouth opened in a yawn. Margaret let out a soft sob and pulled the baby closer. Hawkeye reached out, placing his finger in her tiny hand, letting her grab hold, wrapping the rest of his fingers around that hand.

"Hey, baby," Margaret whispered. "I'm so sorry I acted like I didn't want you and your sister. I do want you. I want you so much -" a sob cut off her words, and Hawkeye put his free arm around her shoulders. "We're going to miss you."

She kissed Adrienne on the forehead, and Hawkeye carefully bent around Margaret's shoulder to do the same. A few tears landed on the baby's face, and Hawkeye wiped them away roughly. It wasn't that he was ashamed to cry; he just didn't want his vision obscured for even a moment. He wanted to stare at Adrienne, watch her breathe and move while he still could.

He didn't know how long he'd been sitting there before Adrienne's chest stopped rising and falling. Margaret's hand hesitantly felt the baby's chance. The slight shake of her head was unnecessary; Hawkeye knew as soon as he saw her face that their baby had no heartbeat.

She fell into Hawkeye's arms, sobbing brokenly, still holding Adrienne. He kept his free arm wrapped around her, his own tears falling freely.

They almost had to tear the body out of her parents' arms to take her to the morgue. When they carefully slipped Hawkeye's finger out of Adrienne's hand, he gave a soft cry and reached out for her.

A nurse put a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I'm sorry." Then they took her out, leaving her parents alone with their grief.

xxxxxxxxx

The look on Daniel's face made it plain that the doctors had informed him, and Hawkeye was glad of it. He wasn't sure he could have said the words.

He wasn't sure exactly how long it had been. He vaguely remembered someone saying it was 2:49 am, and it had been light for awhile. _Probably about eight._ Pain, not the ticking of a clock, had marked the hours.

Daniel reached out to pull his son and the woman he hoped would someday be his daughter-in-law into his arms. Their tears started anew, and that triggered his own. He wanted to say something, but there was nothing to say. The only thing in his experience that even came close to this was getting that false death notification from Korea, and he doubted strongly that even losing an adult child (and even though Hawkeye was safe, he _did_ know what it was like to lose him) was the same thing as losing a baby.

xxxxxxxxx

BJ's hand was shaking as he dialed the number on the piece of paper he'd somehow remembered to grab on his way out the door. He didn't know why he was so nervous, but he supposed that was his prerogative.

A voice came over the line. "_Portland General Hospital._"

"Hello." His voice was as shaky as his hand. "I need to speak to Doctor Hawkeye Pierce. I know he's not on duty, but I believe he's staying the room of Margaret Houlihan, maternity."

"_Please hold._"

He tapped his foot impatiently. It seemed to take forever before someone picked up again. "_Hello?_"

"Hawkeye, guess what?" He was sure his best friend could hear him smiling. "Peggy's in labor!"

"_What?_" He sounded truly confused, as though what had been said hadn't registered.

"I'm about to be a daddy again! Your twins are gonna have an honorary cousin almost exactly their same age!"

"_That's great._" Hawkeye's flat voice contradicted his words.

"Geez, try to restrain your enthusiasm, won't you?"

"_I'm sorry._" For the first time, BJ realized how strained Hawkeye's voice was. "_I just - I_ _-_"

"What's wrong?" BJ recognized this tone now. It was the same tone Hawkeye had used when he was trying to tell Colonel Potter why he had pushed a nurse into a table. It meant something was bad, so bad he couldn't even say it.

"_Adrienne._" The word came out in a sob. "_She's - my baby died this morning._"

BJ felt like someone had stabbed him. "Oh, God, Hawk, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." Guilt washed over him. Whatever his intent, he knew his excitement had probably only served to drive the proverbial knife in deeper. He could hear his friend crying on the other end. "I wish I could be there with you. I just -"

"_I know. Your family needs you._"

"I'm sorry." He didn't know what else to say. Anything he could say just seemed inadequate. "I'll be out there as soon as I can, okay?"

"_I know you will. I have to get back to Margaret_."

"Hug her for me."

"_I will._"

BJ became aware of the tears on his own face as he hung up the phone.

xxxxxxxxx

Hawkeye was on his way back to Margaret's room when something seemed to pull him towards the nursery instead. Almost without thinking about it, he turned and followed his instinct.

Alaina lay in her incubator. She was awake, her eyes searching. Hawkeye wondered if she was looking for her sister. A fresh pain pierced his heart.

A nurse spotted him and walked over. "Can I do something for you?" Her voice was soft with compassion. Hawkeye realized they must all have been told.

"Can she be removed from the incubator? Just for a few minutes?"

The smile the woman gave him was sad but genuine. "I don't see why not, as long as you're careful."

She tenderly lifted the tiny baby out of the incubator and placed her in Hawkeye's arms. She stood by in case Alaina needed to be placed back in in an emergency, but not so close as to interfere. Hawkeye barely noticed her once the child was in his arms.

He slid his finger into her hand and was rewarded with her firm, tight grasp. He watched her chest rise and fall, relishing in every breath she took. He had lost Adrienne, and he would carry that pain with him for the rest of his life. But he had hope. He had Alaina.

**I know most of my readers were really hoping that I would save Adrienne, and I tried drafting several versions of the plot with that ending. But all of them felt really forced and unnatural for me, and that told me I had made up with my mind without realizing it to do what I had originally intended when I first started writing this story, even though it was hard. Hopefully no one hates me too much for it.**

**I also hope no one hates me for taking so long to update. Unfortunately, going back and forth caused my update time to drag out far beyond what I'd intended.**

**The first bit of this chapter is pulled from **_**Goodbye, Farewell, and Amen.**_

**Please review.**


	9. Chapter Nine: Grandpa Sherman

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Nine: Grandpa Sherman**_

"What the hell is all this?" Hawkeye demanded. The old house was filled to the walls with people.

Daniel shook his head. "I'm sorry, Hawk. I tried to tell them you and Margaret wouldn't like this, but no one listened."

Margaret just looked overwhelmed, and Hawkeye didn't blame her. He was worried about her. She had been in a sort of daze since Adrienne's death. He knew it must be how she dealt with it, by feeling everything through a haze. If only he could. He knew how. It had been a strategy for surviving the nightmare in Korea. But if he checked out, there would be no one left to care for Margaret and for Alaina, who inexplicably seemed to be aware that an important part of her life was gone.

They had stayed in the hospital for a week after Adrienne's death, unwilling to leave until Alaina was able to come with them. Margaret had been stable to be released days earlier, but the hospital staff had been sympathetic to the parents' grief for their child and their need to be close to the remaining twin.

"Look, do me a favor. I want to get Margaret and the baby upstairs without being mobbed. Just hold off the crowd, if you would."

Daniel nodded. Hawkeye wasn't exactly sure what it was his father did, but he was able to escort Margaret up the stairs and carry Alaina into the room they had converted into a nursery.

He carefully laid his baby down in one of the cribs in the room, trying to keep his eyes off the second tiny crib that only served as a reminder of his agony.

xxxxxxxxx

"More visitors?" Hawkeye grumbled angrily. "Can't they understand we just want to be left alone?"

He pulled open the front door and stopped dead in his tracks. "What - you!"

"Me." Colonel Potter took a step forward to meet Hawkeye in the doorway.

"Who called you?"

"Your father. He told me what happened. I'm so sorry."

"What are you doing here? Look, I appreciate the gesture -"

"Who said I was here for you?" he retorted in the tone and with the look Hawkeye knew so well from every time the man had 'redirected' him in Korea. "Your father thought Margaret needed another shoulder to lean on."

Hawkeye managed a weak smile at that very characteristic remark. He knew, of course, that Potter was there for him as much as for her, but it was just like him to retort to a remark like that when Hawkeye tried to brush him off.

"How've you been?" Hawkeye asked him.

"Oh, no you don't. This is about you."

"Well, come in."

xxxxxxxxx

"The night before Adrienne -" he still hated using the d-word to talk about his baby, "you know, I had a nightmare. About the baby in Korea."

Potter shook his head sadly. It was so awful that that had to happen at all, but for it to happen in front of a group of tired, overworked people all on the verge of breakdown was damn tragic. He should have guessed that this would call back bad memories.

"Do you want to meet Alaina?" he asked suddenly.

"Who?"

Hawkeye frowned. "Didn't Dad tell you?"

"Apparently not."

"Come with me."

Hawkeye led his former CO up the stairs and into the nursery. "Just be quiet."

"What ..." but before he could finish the sentence, Hawkeye pulled the door open and he obligingly fell silent.

The first thing he saw was the empty crib, set up all ready for a baby to come home and occupy it, a virtual shrine to the little girl who would never sleep in it. But movement drew his eyes to the other side of the room, and he drew in a sharp, sudden breath. There was another crib, and this one appeared used. And then he finally realized the source of the movement - there was a baby in it.

Hawkeye bent over the crib and lifted out the child inside. "Colonel Potter, I'd like you to meet Alaina."

"Twins," he said, his voice breathy with shock as he finally figured it out.

"The ray of hope in all of this." He was tracing Alaina's face with a finger. "Would you like to hold her?"

"If you're sure -"

"You have what, two children and three grandchildren? I assume you know how to do this." He carefully passed the baby over to the shorter man, who held her tenderly.

"Hello, little one," he whispered. "I'm your Grandpa Sherman." Realizing too late what he had just said, he looked up at Hawkeye, about to apologize. But Hawkeye was nodding and there was a very small smile on his face.

xxxxxxxxx

"Hawkeye, about what I said -"

"Don't worry about it."

Alaina had fallen asleep in the Colonel's arms and they had carefully put her in her crib and stepped into the hall. Potter had decided it would be best not to wait to clear the air with Hawkeye about his little slip.

"I am worried about it. I had no right to lay claim to a child that I'm not related to."

"It's not inaccurate," Hawkeye countered. "You've been more of a father to Margaret than her real father ever was. I think that makes that baby in their your grandchild." His eyes softened even further. "She's lucky to have a grandfather like you."

"Almost as lucky as she is to have a father like you."

**Again, I sincerely apologize for the wait. I wasn't entirely sure where to go after the last chapter, and then life got in the way and I had no time or energy. Good news is I've got most of the next chapter already planned so it shouldn't take nearly so long.  
**

**Please review.**


	10. Chapter Ten: A Cry For Help

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Ten: A Cry For Help**_

It had been two months since Adrienne's death, and the pieces of Hawkeye's life were finally starting to come back together.

They had removed the second crib from Alaina's room, and it had helped both him and Margaret not to be confronted by that reminder of their loss every time they went to tend to their daughter. Sherman had stayed for a week until they were both on slightly more stable ground. They had both gone back to work part-time, and the routine had been good for them. Daniel was always willing to be part of their rotation to watch Alaina, and there were several friends they trusted in an emergency.

"Hawkeye!"

Speaking of emergencies - "What is it, Dad?"

"Car accident."

Hawkeye was instantly out of his chair. "How bad?"

"I don't know about bad, but it's big. Car lost control and slid into oncoming traffic, hit another car and sent it right into the side of a pickup truck, and it snowballed from there. The first ambulances should be arriving any minute."

"All right. I'll run down to the parking lot and start triage. Call Margaret, tell her to get over here, bring the baby if she has to. I want her expertise on this."

"On it."

xxxxxxxxx

The rush of ambulances was liable to give him flashbacks, but fortunately it seemed to be a problem only of quantity, not severity, of injuries. Only a few would need surgery.

"Hawkeye!"

He turned. "Margaret!" He waved her over. "I need to get scrubbed up. Can you take over here?" When she nodded, he turned to the half-dozen or so staff rushing from ambulance to ambulance. "All right, everyone, listen up. Margaret's in charge here. Understand?"

He barely waited for the chorus of "Yes, Doctor" before he sprinted back towards the hospital. Margaret approached the next ambulance.

"What've we got?" she asked the driver.

"One broken leg, two children who look fine but we're bringing in anyone who was involved. Injured is an adult male, cab driver, his cab was sideswiped in the wreck and rolled over. Kids were passengers, parents nowhere to be found."

"Got it." She opened the back and jumped in.

She ran to the man on the gurney first, removing the blanket over his legs and examining the injury. "Okay, it's a clean break, no bleeding. He can wait, but get him something for pain."

She turned to the children. They were both girls. The older of the two had her arms wrapped around her sister, who was crying. She approached them. "Hey. My name's Margaret. What are your names?"

"Rebecca Donovan," said the older one quietly. "My sister is Kathleen."

"How old are you?"

"Eleven," Rebecca replied at the same time her sister said "nine."

_So young. _"Where are your parents?"

Rebecca shrugged. "I don't know."

"I don't care," her sister mumbled. "It's not like they do."

"Kathy, shut up," said the older girl. "They just wanted some time for themselves."

"All right, well, until they come looking we're going to have to keep you here. I'd like to have someone look you over anyway, just to be safe."

xxxxxxxxx

Hawkeye peeled off yet another pair of gloves. "What've we got left?"

Margaret consulted her clipboard. "Just two girls, didn't look hurt but they were in the cab that rolled over and we couldn't get a hold of their parents."

"Might as well have a look. Divide and conquer?"

She smiled at him. "Sure. You take Kathleen, I'll take Rebecca."

xxxxxxxxx

It took Hawkeye less than a minute to determine two things. One, Kathleen Donovan had come out of the accident relatively unscathed. And two, car accidents were the least of that child's worries.

The girl's back, bottom, and upper legs were covered in welts, new injuries layered on top of old scars. He could only imagine how much that must have hurt. She had bruises everywhere except her arms, lower legs, neck and face - bruises that looked too old to have been caused by the accident.

"You want to tell me what happened?"

She gave him a look. "I was in a car accident," she said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Honey, I know that a car accident didn't do this to you. Why don't you tell me what really happened?"

But apparently he had gotten all he was going to get out of her. She laid back on the exam table without a word.

xxxxxxxxx

Rebecca Donovan was sitting with her knees drawn up and her arms crossed over her chest. She felt an odd sense of familiarity, like she'd seen her somewhere before, but she pushed it aside. That wasn't relevant right now.

"Hello, Rebecca," she said softly. "I just need to check you out, make sure you're not hurt."

"I'm not," she replied. Her voice was soft but determined. Determined not to let Margaret examine her.

"I'd rather decide that for myself." She had dealt with stubbornness of every degree in Korea, an eleven-year-old was nothing compared to that. "Come on." She handed the girl a hospital gown. "I'll look away while you get changed."

She looked from the gown to Margaret, and their eyes met. The nurse drew in a sharp breath. The child's honey-colored eyes were filled with fear. Whatever was going on, it wasn't a child trying to get her way. Something was wrong.

"Is there a problem?" she pressed.

"No. I just don't want you to check me."

"I have to check you before I can let you go. Please?"

She crossed her arms stubbornly and folded up tighter. "No."

"Honey -"

"No!"

She heard a tap on the door and went to it. "Hawkeye? What is it?"

"We need to talk. Now. Out here."

She looked over her shoulder. "I'll be right back, okay?"

No response, but Margaret didn't figure the patient was going anywhere. She stepped into the hall. "What's this about?"

"Did you examine Rebecca yet?"

"She won't let me. I told her I can't release her until I examine her, but I think that just made her more determined to outlast me."

"I wouldn't doubt it." At her raised eyebrow, he continued. "I examined her sister. She has injuries that can't be accounted for by a car accident. Injuries like someone beat the hell out of her. She won't tell me where she got them."

"For God's sake, she's nine! Who hurts a nine-year-old like that?"

"I don't know." His face was dark with an anger that she knew meant he was ready to kill whoever had caused it. "But I'd sure like to find out."

"You think Rebecca has similar injuries and doesn't want me to see them?"

"I think that's part of it. But I also think what you said had an effect. The injuries I found on Kathy didn't happen all at once. I'd say she's been hurt over a period of a few months at least. That means it's someone who has access to them on a regular basis."

"And I told her I wouldn't release her until she let me do the exam," Margaret realized with an aching heart. "So she figures as long as she keeps me from examining her, I'll keep her here, and she won't have to go back to whoever hurt her."

"You have to convince her to talk to you," Hawkeye urged. "If she says someone's hurting her, we can find a way to help her. But we can't help her if she won't admit she needs it."

"I'll see what I can do. You keep working on the sister. All we need is one of them."

"Right."

Margaret reentered the room. Rebecca hadn't moved from the position she had been in.

"Sweetheart, I need you to listen to me right now," she began. "I know why you don't want me to examine you. I know someone's been hurting you. I can help you, but I need you to let me. Please. Let me check you."

She was wavering, but she looked uncertain, so Margaret tried one more thing. "We still haven't been able to reach your parents. Regardless of whether you do or don't do the exam, I can't release you until we find them."

That apparently did it. "Okay."

"I'll look away, and you put this gown on. Tell me when you're done and we'll start this."

It took her only a few moments before she told Margaret she was changed. She helped her up onto the exam table and carefully opened the back of her gown, bracing herself for what she might find. But even then, she was hard-pressed to contain her reaction. Her injuries were horrific, barely leaving an inch of untouched skin on her back, chest, abdomen, and upper legs. Her bottom and thighs were covered in welts, and there were dark bruises on the insides of her thighs. Margaret laid a gentle hand on one of them, and the girl instantly stiffened, a shudder running through her small body.

She pulled back as though she'd been burned. "Oh, God," she whispered. It was all coming together, and she didn't like it a bit.

She swallowed hard. She couldn't afford to be sick right now. She brought the girl up to a sitting position, meeting her eyes. "Honey, how did you get those bruises on your legs? Tell me the truth."

"I fell."

"The truth, sweetheart," she repeated patiently. "I know you're scared, but the only way I can help you is if you tell me what's really going on." She cupped the girl's cheek in her hand. "I know someone hurt you. If you tell me who it is, I can keep them from being able to hurt you again. Tell me, honey. Come on."

She was silent so long that Margaret was sure she wasn't going to respond. And when she did speak, it was a single, whispered word. "Ken."

Margaret nodded, encouraged. "Who's Ken?"

"My new daddy," she said softly. "Mommy married him when I was nine. She said he was our new daddy, and that we had to call him Daddy, but I don't want to! I only do it because she makes me! I hate him! I want my real daddy!" Then she gasped, shocked and horrified by her own outburst. She looked up at Margaret, who was again struck by the terror in her eyes.

She laid a gentle hand on the girl's shoulder, trying to comfort her. "That's good. Why do you hate him?"

Her lower lip was trembling. "He's so mean. He doesn't love us. He gets mad all the time, even for little stuff or stuff that's not our fault like when the car broke. Then he punishes us."

"What does he do to punish you?" Margaret pushed gently. She was certain she knew but she needed the girl to say it unprompted.

"He hits us," she whispered. "And not just like a spanking. He hits all over our bodies with his fists, or he uses things. Like his belt - I really hate it when he hits me with the metal, but we get extra for crying. Or he uses the broom, or a bottle, or anything else that's right there. And he does it really hard, so there's blood sometimes." She looked up at Margaret with wide, tear-filled eyes. "Why? Why does he get so mad all the time and hurt us?"

"I don't know, honey." Margaret wiped her own eyes on her sleeve, trying to stay composed. "Come here."

She slid into Margaret's open arms, letting the nurse pull her close. "He said if we told anyone, if either of us did, we'd both get the worst beating of our lives," she whispered.

"Shh," Margaret soothed, stroking the girl's blonde curls. "No one's going to hurt either of you as long as I have anything to say about it."

Rebecca squirmed a little in Margaret's arms, uncomfortable. "Can I really tell you anything?"

"Anything, sweetheart. What is it?"

"He - he does these horrible things to me," she whispered even more quietly. "It started like a month after they got married. He came into my bedroom after bedtime and put his hand in my underwear and touch me. He would do it almost every night. Then on my birthday when I turned ten, he said I was a big girl now so we could do more - it hurts so much, and I feel so awful when he does it, but he said a man has needs, and if I didn't let him do it then he would use Kathy instead." She sniffed, eyes filled with tears at risk of spilling over. "I don't understand. It's like what my real daddy told me about how people make babies, but he should be having babies with Mommy, not me, right?" Then she started to cry.

Margaret had been expecting tears long before this. She cradled the child close, gently rubbing her back. "Yes," she said gently. "He should. What he did to you, that's against the law and he could go to jail."

She looked up at Margaret, her eyes filled with so much hope it was heartbreaking. "If he goes to jail, does that mean he'll never be able to come see me again?"

"Yes, honey. That's what it means."

This provoked a fresh flood of tears, and Margaret wrapped her up warmly in her arms. "Let it out, honey, just let it out. You're safe now."

When the child had finally finished crying, Margaret gently turned her face up to look her in the eyes. "Where was your mother in all this?"

"She doesn't care. She used to love us but after Daddy went away she started acting different. Even when he came back, she was still different and she was mad at him a lot. She left him and got married to Ken, and then all she cared about was money and being pretty. She wasn't like our mommy anymore. She wasn't around us enough to know what he was doing."

"What about your father? Where is he?"

"Still back in Boston. Mommy told the judge he wasn't a good parent, and that's why the judge told us we had to stay with her and not him."

Margaret just barely suppressed a snort of derision. Anyone who would let her children around a monster like their stepfather and then not even spend enough time around them to realize he was abusing them was, in her mind, hardly qualified to label anyone else a bad parent.

"It's not true!" she added. "Daddy loved us! He was good to us and he never hurt us and he spent time with us and -" her sentence was interrupted by a dry sob. "I want to see him. I want him to take me away from Mommy and Ken."

"Then why don't we go call him right now?" she suggested.

"I think he hates me," she said tearfully.

"Why? You just said he loved you."

"He did when we lived at his house. But then when he was visiting us, Ken said we weren't allowed to hug him, or say we loved him, or anything like that, or he would punish us. So he just stopped coming."

"Do you have his phone number?"

"He told me the last time he visited. He said he couldn't come see us anymore but that we should remember that number and use it to call him in an emergency. He made me repeat it back to him over and over until I could remember the whole thing."

"Well, let's give it a try. Call and ask if he'll come get you. The worst thing he can say is no."

"Okay."

xxxxxxxxx

He jumped a mile when the phone rang. Work stuff, he figured, though they didn't usually call this late. But who else would have any reason at all to call at - he checked the clock - nine o'clock at night?

He picked up the phone. "Hello?"

"_Daddy?_"

His heart skipped a couple of beats. It had to be a wrong number. There was no way - "Who is this?"

"Daddy? It's Becky."

Her voice was distorted, and he realized it wasn't just the connection. His daughter was crying. "Baby, what's wrong? Are you okay?"

"_I - I want you to come get me. I'm in a hospital._"

"Where's your mother? What happened?"

"_I want you. Please come get us._"

"Us? Is your sister there with you?"

"_Yes_."

"Are you girls all right? What happened?"

"_It was a car accident, but it wasn't that bad. Daddy, please -_"

"Okay, okay, I'll come get you. Where are you?"

"_In Maine._"

"_Maine_?"

"_We were on vacation."_

"Okay. Where in Maine are you?"

He heard words he couldn't make out in the background and then her voice came through again. "_Uh, it's a little town called Crabapple Cove, about twenty -_"

"Twenty minutes from Portland," he finished, feeling his heart sink into his stomach. _Dear God, of all the cities in the world..._ "Hang in there, honey, I'll be there as soon as I can." Then he hung up.

_Crabapple Cove. It had to be Crabapple Cove._ He knew exactly where it was. He had traced the route from Boston to that tiny town on the map a hundred times, but he'd never been able to bring himself to actually make the journey. He'd never set much store by the idea of a higher power, but if there was one, maybe this was a sign that it was time to take that trip.

xxxxxxxxx

Hawkeye sat in his office. Margaret had filled him in on the situation. She had wanted to stay, but by the time the girls' father arrived it would be into the wee hours of the morning. He had put his foot down and insisted she take Alaina back from the receptionist who had so kindly volunteered to babysit and go home, while he stayed to explain things to the man.

Margaret had examined Rebecca and tended her injuries before bringing in her sister so they could explain what was going on. Kathleen had been horrified at first that her sister had told but thrilled that she'd be able to see her father again and relieved beyond words to be out of the monster's clutches. The two had fallen asleep curled up on the bed in Rebecca's room.

Hawkeye was staring at a photo, clutching the frame in his hands. It was one of only a handful of photos he had of both his twins. Biology notwithstanding, they were _his_ babies. They were precious. All children were precious. The woman who had killed her baby in Korea was bad enough, but that had been done out of necessity and desperation, and her anguish had been clear to see. That man had hurt these little girls just because he could, with no remorse whatsoever for the pain he had caused them. That was beyond inexcusable in his mind.

xxxxxxxxx

It was probably a miracle that he hadn't been stopped for speeding. Following his daughter's frantic call, he had jumped into his car so fast he couldn't even remember if he'd locked the front door of his house. He'd made the eight-hour journey from Boston to Portland in just five and a half. Another fifteen minutes had brought him to the coastal town of Crabapple Cove, where a waitress at an all-night diner had been happy to point him in the direction of the town's only hospital. It was well past midnight, and the parking lot was all but empty.

He stepped out of the car, feeling the pressure of the envelope in his pocket, the one thing he had remembered to grab before getting on the road. A reminder that, whatever had called him out here, there was something else he had to do before he went home.

xxxxxxxxx

"Doctor?"

Hawkeye jerked awake, realizing he had fallen asleep in his chair, the photo of his daughters still clasped between his hands. Hurriedly he set it down. "Yeah?"

"The girls' father is here."

"Send him in."

Hawkeye had gone over and over it in his head - in fact, had dozed off with the thought in his mind - but he still had no idea what to tell the man about the horrible things that had been done to his children. He would have to come up with something, and fast.

He was uncomfortably aware that the man was staring at him, clearly waiting for some sort of answer as to why he was here. He looked up, drawing a breath to speak, but that breath left his lungs in a rush when he realized who it was that was standing in his office.

"_Trapper_?"

**Hopefully the length of this chapter makes up for the brevity of the last one. Obviously I had to wrap up that storyline before I could start this one.**

**I know the abuse in this chapter may seem a little gratuitous, but there is a reason for it besides just character angst, and that is that we are talking about the 1950's. At that time, if my understanding of history serves at all, it would have been a lot harder to prosecute or remove a child from a home based on physical abuse than it is today, but sexual abuse of a child would still be taken very seriously.**

**Please review.**


	11. Chapter Eleven: Truth Will Out

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Eleven: Truth Will Out  
**_

Trapper reeled back when he heard that voice, saw the man's face. Hawkeye just stared at him, not at all sure what to say. He was finally going to say something just to break the silence when Trapper did it instead.

"Hawk." The word was breathy, full of air and laden with shock. "Hawkeye, how?"

He stepped forward and touched Hawkeye's arm gently, as if testing to make sure he was solid. The touch snapped Hawkeye out of it and he pulled back. "What are you doing?"

"What - how - how can you be here?" Trapper was still caught up in his shock.

"I work here." Hawkeye's voice bordered on icy. "You thought that just because you forgot about me I'd disappear off the face of the Earth?"

"Hawkeye, I -"

"No note, not even a message! That kiss you left with Radar doesn't count!"

"I didn't know what to say! What do you say after a year like that?"

"You never wrote, even after you got back! It's not like you didn't know my address! I was stuck in that upholstered toilet until the end of the war, and you never so much as wrote a damn letter!"

"I did write you!" Trapper protested. Then he pulled an envelope from his pocket and dropped it on the desk.

"Then how come I never -" Hawkeye began as he picked it up, but the words died on his lips as he got a good look at it. The address was exactly as he remembered, and it was postmarked a few months after Trapper had left Korea for good, but Hawkeye's eyes were drawn to another stamp, this one only three letters: KIA.

"Trap -" he began, shocked, the anger draining out of him as suddenly as if someone had pulled a cork on a bottle turned upside-down. The letter fell from his fingers to land back on the desk.

"You have no idea what getting that letter back like that did to me," he said softly. "It tore me to pieces. You're far and away the best friend I've ever had, and I thought I'd lost you - never even had the chance to say goodbye."

Trapper's voice was husky, and Hawkeye could see that his eyes were moist. He stepped forward and pulled his long-lost friend into a hug. "It was a mistake," he whispered. "A dumb army screw-up. I'm here. I'm fine."

Trapper's arms came up around Hawkeye's back and he squeezed his eyes shut against the tears as he held his friend, his brother, the brother he'd thought he lost forever three years ago. Residual grief and elation both streamed through him.

"I missed you, Hawkeye," he whispered.

"I missed you, Trap." He had carried so much anger for so long, and in the end it hadn't been Trapper's fault at all. It had been the Army, it was always the Army, he should have guessed.

"Hawk." Trapper slowly broke the embrace. "I really don't want to change the subject, but - my girls. What's going on with my girls?"

Hawkeye had been so shocked to see his old friend standing in his office that the man's reason for being there in the first place had completely slipped his mind. It hit him now, full-force. Telling a stranger would have been bad enough - how could he tell his friend the horrible things he and Margaret had found?

"Sit down, Trap."

Trapper did sit, but he didn't relax at all. "What is it? Becky said there was an accident but it wasn't bad. What -"

"It's not the accident." He joined Trapper on the couch. "We brought them in because of the accident, but when we examined them, we found evidence of abuse."

Trapper's face completely drained of color. "Tell me you didn't just say what I think you said."

"I'm sorry."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah," he said softly. "I'm sure. Rebecca told us."

"Who?" he demanded. "Who hurt my girls?"

"Someone named Ken. Rebecca said he married her mother."

"Kenneth Donovan." He spat the name like it tasted bad. "The jackass my ex-wife married. I always thought he was the scum of the earth, but this - I never thought - what did he do?"

"He beat them both," Hawkeye replied softly. "Repeatedly and seriously. And -" He couldn't say it. Of all the things he had to tell his friend, this was the worst.

"And what?" Trapper pressed. What else could there possibly be?

"Rebecca, she," he swallowed hard, "she said he sexually abused her."

Trapper's eyes closed as a wave of anguish and despair rolled over him. "God, Hawk," he whispered.

"I'm so sorry." It sounded horribly inadequate even to his own ears, but it was the only thing he could come up with to say.

"How could he?" His voice was filled with unbearable pain. "She's just a baby. God, she's just a baby."

"I know." He did. He'd looked into those eyes, and he knew what Trapper meant. It was awful enough when it happened to adults, as he well knew, but Rebecca was so young, young enough that she could barely even begin to understand what had happened to her, and her innocence had been completely shattered.

"What did he do to her? I need to know."

"She was raped," he whispered. "I'm sorry."

Hawkeye hadn't thought it was possible for his friend to get any whiter, but at those words, what little color was left drained out of Trapper's face. "God, no. Not my baby." He shut his eyes against his tears. "I'll kill him. I swear, I'll kill him!" He slammed his hand down on Hawkeye's desk.

"Trap -" Hawkeye began, trying to calm his friend before he hurt himself.

"I'll kill him!" Trapper repeated. He grabbed the first thing within reach and sent it flying across the room. The picture frame hit the wall and shattered. Hawkeye gave a soft, involuntary cry and hurried over to inspect the damage.

It was that reaction, more than anything else, that snapped Trapper out of it. He hurried to Hawkeye. "Damn, Hawk, I'm sorry. How bad is it?"

Hawkeye gingerly picked the black-and-white photo from the glass shards, breathing an audible sigh of relief. "It's okay. You only broke the frame."

Trapper glanced over Hawkeye's shoulder, frowning a little when he saw the picture. The two infants depicted were cute, but the frame didn't look cheap, and yet Hawkeye didn't seem to care. What about that picture made it so important?

Thinking of children, however, only reminded him of what had upset him in the first place, and he felt a pain as sharp as a knife through his heart. Before he could stop himself, he began to cry.

Hawkeye hurriedly laid the picture on a bookshelf and ran to his friend. Trapper felt Hawkeye's arm around his shoulders as he was pulled into his friend's embrace. He leaned gratefully into it, resting his head on his friend's shoulder as he sobbed.

It took him more than a few minutes before he was able to compose himself and lift his head from Hawkeye's shoulder. "Thanks. I'm sorry."

"Don't be. I can only imagine what you're going through."

"I want to see my girls."

"Come on."

"Wait." He stopped Hawkeye with the single word. "I want to see Becky first. Alone. So I can talk to her without worrying about what her sister might overhear. I take it Kathy doesn't know."

"That's what Rebecca told us." It felt a little strange to call the child by a different name than Trapper was, but it was how she had introduced herself and it would have been stranger to change that when she wasn't even there. "I can put you in another room and bring them to you there."

xxxxxxxxx

Rebecca started awake when someone touched her arm, but quickly settled when she realized it was only the nice doctor. "Yeah?"

"I need you to come with me. Your sister will be fine here."

"Okay." She slid out of bed and stepped into a pair of hospital-issue slippers that had to be twice as big as her feet. "Where are we going?"

"There's something I want to show you." By this point they had reached the door of the other room and he pushed it open. "Look."

Her eyes went wide. "Daddy!"

Trapper opened his arms. "Come here, baby."

She shot across the room so fast she managed to lose both of the too-large slippers in the process and threw herself into his arms. "I thought you wouldn't come."

"Of course I'd come. Why wouldn't I?"

"I thought you hate me."

"Oh, baby, that's not true." He rocked her gently. "I love you so much. How could I ever hate you?"

"You stopped coming."

He rubbed her back. "It was hard, baby, that's all. I thought you loved your new stepfather more than me. I know now that he must have made you act like that, right?"

She nodded against his shoulder. "I didn't mean it."

"I know. Shh, it's okay. I'm here now, and I'm not leaving you."

"But the judge said -"

_Screw him_, he thought, but he had enough self-control not to say it out loud in front of his child. "If the judge tries to make you go back, we'll tell them what Ken did to you. They wouldn't make you go back there knowing that."

"I'm scared, Daddy."

"I know. But I'll keep you safe. You're never going back there, baby. Never. I swear."

She began to cry and he drew her close. "Shh. Let it out. He can't hurt you here, you're safe with me. You're safe, baby." He felt sick. She probably hadn't been safe anywhere in years.

When her tears had began to slow he carefully set her on the bed. Part of him wanted to just sit and comfort her forever, but he was dying to see and hold his younger daughter as well.

Hawkeye didn't even need a word to understand. Trapper only had to open the door before he nodded and headed off down the hall.

A moment later, he returned with the little girl in tow. She seemed hesitant at first, but as soon as she saw who was standing at the end of the hall she forgot her reluctance and took off towards him. He bent down in time to catch his flying child in his arms and lift her up.

"Daddy!" she shrieked. She was yelling right in his ear but he didn't care. All he wanted was to hold his baby. His throat was too tight to speak so he brought her to the bed where he had been sitting and settled her in his lap.

He shifted Kathleen into one arm and opened the other to his older daughter, letting her slide up against him again. He pulled them both to him, unable to stop the tears running down his face. This was what he had dreamed of every night since Louise had taken them away from him, just as he had dreamed of it in Korea, being able to hold both his babies close. But this time it was far, far too late.

xxxxxxxxx

Hawkeye looked up when he heard someone tap on the doorframe, smiling a little when he saw his friend. "Hey. What's up?"

"The girls are sleeping." He shook his head, clearly still in disbelief. "My God. How can anyone _do_ something like that?"

"I don't know." He had accepted a long time ago, after what had happened to him, that he would never know what would make someone do something like that.

"He had me."

"What?"

"If he didn't want them, he could have given them to me. I would have taken care of them. But he just had to make sure I couldn't have them, just because I wanted them. Just to show me who had the control."

"I'm sorry. That must hurt."

"You can't imagine."

"I can." He unconsciously ran his hand lightly over the picture of his babies. Trapper's eyes followed his hand, and he finally made the connection he'd been searching for.

"You have kids?"

"Yeah." He would tell Trapper about the general sometime, but right now it wasn't relevant. The general might have conceived them but Hawkeye was their father. "That's Alaina. And that's Adrienne."

"Wow. You, Hawkeye Pierce, have a family. Who's the lucky lady?"

In answer, he only handed Trapper another picture, this one his favorite. It was the only picture he had of his family all together. Margaret sitting on the chair in her hospital room, holding both babies propped up in her lap while he stood behind her, his hand on her shoulder.

Trapper glanced down and his eyes almost popped out of his head. "The hell?"

It hit Hawkeye just a little too late that Trapper lacked the context to understand their relationship. He had never known Margaret the way Hawkeye had, and he had left when she was still in Frank's shadow, trying to live up to what she felt everyone expected of her. He didn't know the woman that had emerged after Frank's departure and her disastrous marriage.

"I'm sorry," he said quickly, taking the frame back. "I forgot."

"Forgot what? What a -"

"Trap." He cut his friend off before he could say something that would make Hawkeye tempted to hit him. He had said the same things once, he couldn't blame Trapper for still believing them. "Just listen for a minute. She's not what we used to think. What you saw, what you knew - it was a facade. And that was hard for me to understand too, at first. But really, she was scared. She used that to cover it."

"Really." He still sounded skeptical.

"When she got trapped in that closet with you, she was terrified, wasn't she?"

"Yeah."

"And she didn't want you to see because -"

"Because she outranked me."

"Exactly. She was afraid of being vulnerable, of being human. I had to work to get through to her, but she turned into someone I could count on no matter what. She was there for me during one of the hardest times of my life, and I was there for her the same way." He could see Trapper starting to waver, so he played his trump card. "Trap, if she was still the same person she used to be, you really think we could stand to be in the same room long enough even to have that picture taken."

"Guess not," he admitted.

"I'm sorry for springing that on you. I meant it when I said I forgot. I've gotten so used to thinking of her as someone I care about that it didn't occur to me that you haven't been around her for so long you would still remember her the way she was when she was in Frank's shadow. I love her, Trap."

"I can see that." He glanced down at Hawkeye's left hand. "Though not enough to keep the ring on at work."

"We're, uh, not married."

"Oh. Sorry."

"That's fine. We will be someday."

"What's the holdup?"

"She didn't want to get married just because she was pregnant. She wanted to be sure I really loved her. So I figure I wait for the right time, and then I ask her again."

"Wow." Trapper whistled under his breath. "You've got it bad, my friend."

Hawkeye nearly retorted as he would have in Korea, with a comment about Trapper's marriage, but bit it back when he remembered the situation."What happened between you and Louise anyway? You seemed happy enough when you were in Korea.

He sighed, sitting down across from Hawkeye. "I was. But from the time I got home it just wasn't the same. She wanted me to act like I'd never gone to Korea, and I couldn't do that. That was such a huge part of my life. It wasn't about the women, I'd have forgotten them in a heartbeat. But forget you, or Henry, or Radar? No way. And I couldn't just act like I'd never been in the middle of a war either." He sighed. "I told her I needed to get help, she said I'd be wasting my money and I just needed to control myself better. After she left I started seeing a shrink, and it's helped. But she used all that to convince a judge I wasn't fit to take care of my kids, and then she didn't even give a damn about them. She did it just to hurt me. Three years without my girls - you can't even imagine what that was like."

Those words were like a vice grip on Hawkeye's heart. No, he couldn't. It had been two _months_ and there were times he wondered how he could be expected to go on another day without Adrienne. How could he face the years to come?

"Hawk? You okay?"

It was only then that he realized a few tears had slipped loose. "I'm sorry."

Trapper rose and came around the desk "Hawkeye? What's wrong?"

"Adrienne," he choked. "She - I can't -" his grief all seemed to be welling to the surface and he felt his body shake as he tried to contain it all.

"What happened?"

"She's gone," he gasped. "My baby girl, my little Adrienne. She died in Margaret's arms before she was a week old."

"Oh, Hawkeye." He gently pulled his friend to his feet so he could take him in his arms. "I'm so sorry."

That touch did it. He broke down completely in his friend's arms, grief pouring from him in waves. He sobbed helplessly, feeling Trapper's hands gently rubbing his back, trying to soothe him, offering comfort. He leaned his head into Trapper's shoulder, taking comfort from his proximity, clinging to him to stay upright.

When he had exhausted his grief, he stepped back from his friend and collapsed on the couch. "I'm sorry, Trap. You've got your own kids' problems to deal with and here I go crying all over you."

"I could say the same," Trapper countered. "Losing my girls the way I did was hard, but at least I knew I _could_ see them if I wanted to. I used to - I used to go up to their school and just watch them play in the yard from my car. They never saw me, but it was my way of seeing them after I stopped going to the house." He reached over and squeezed Hawkeye's shoulder. "What you went through - no parent should ever have to feel that pain. And yet you looked after my girls, helped me through my pain."

Hawkeye looked up at his friend and a genuine smile crossed his face. "I'm glad you're back, Trap. I'm glad you didn't actually forget me."

Trapper smiled back. "I'm glad you're still here."

**Sorry, sorry! I know this took forever, but even though I'd drafted it in advance it needed a **_**lot**_** of fixing, right at a time my life got crazy.**

**Please review.**


	12. Chapter Twelve: Like She Never Saw Me

**The Best-Laid Plans**

**Disclaimer: **If you recognize it, it's not mine.

_**Chapter Twelve: Like She Never Saw Me**_

Margaret rubbed her eyes. She had thought there was no way she'd ever have to function on less sleep than she had in Korea. That, of course, had been before there was a baby in the picture.

Hawkeye hadn't come home the night before, but she didn't blame him. She knew he had stayed all night with those poor girls; she had had to be talked out of doing the same thing.

It was because her mind was on her boyfriend and the two children that she walked right into another woman, snapping back to reality as soon as they collided. "Oh, I'm sorry, ma'am. Can I help you?"

"Louise Donovan," she said briskly. "I'm here about my daughters. I was informed by the local police department that they're here."

Margaret nodded. Although niether she nor Hawkeye had wanted to submit that report, they had both been fully aware that they could get in serious trouble if they didn't report two minors at their hospital who had been separated from their parents. She only hoped that the father had arrived by now to provide some sort of balance.

"If you'll follow me." She walked into the hospital lobby and picked up the internal telephone. "Hawkeye?"

"_Yeah, what's up?_" He sounded tired too.

"Mrs. Donovan is here."

"_Who?_" Now he just sounded confused.

"The girls' mother." How could he not remember that?

"_Oh, right._"

She heard a voice in the background and frowned. "Who's that?"

"_Never mind_," he said quickly. "_I'll be right there._" He hung up the phone before she could ask any more questions.

It wasn't two minutes later that he came down the stairs. "Mrs. M - Mrs. Donovan," he corrected himself quickly. "What can I do for you?"

"I'm here to collect my children," she said briskly.

Hawkeye drew a sharp breath, trying to keep back the wave of anger that welled up in him. "Would you come with me, please? There's something we need to discuss."

She followed him and seated herself with visible reluctance. "What's this about, Doctor?"

"I'll be blunt. I'm not comfortable returning those children to your care."

"What? Why?"

"Because of your husband." He'd been gentle with Trapper, but Louise was a completely different story.

"What about my husband?" she demanded. "You've never met him."

"If you don't know, you're more deluded than I thought possible. And if you do - what I'd like to call you is something I wouldn't say in the company of anything resembling a lady."

"What are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about beating two defenseless girls black and blue."

"You're exaggerating." She had yet to show a shred of emotion apart from annoyance. "He may have spanked them a few times, but if children aren't disciplined no one knows how they'll end up."

"There's a pretty clear line between discipline and abuse, and the bruises on those girls' bodies tell me that line was crossed a long time ago. Not to mention he crossed every line in the book when he got into your daughter's bed."

Her reaction couldn't have been more different from her ex-husband's. Where he had become almost hysterical, she simply scoffed dismissively. "Oh, come on. Ken in my daughter's bed? Where do you get such ideas?"

"That's what she told the nurse who examined her." It didn't escape Hawkeye's notice that she had yet to even ask which daughter they were talking about. "And our medical evidence confirms it. Someone's been raping her."

"My girls are just kids."

"Exactly."

For the first time, the words he was saying seemed to penetrate her fog of denial. "Are - are you sure?" Her composed exterior seemed to be shaky now.

"I'm positive she was raped. And I believe her when she says it was him."

"It can't be." Her lower lip was visibly trembling. "Which - which one was it?"

"Rebecca."

"No, it can't be," she repeated. "Why would he hurt them? He's the one who pushed me to file for custody."

"What?" Hawkeye was taken aback. This added another piece to the puzzle, and he was liking it less and less the more he saw.

"I wasn't sure if I wanted them or not. I was ready to work out joint custody, or even just let my ex be the primary. But Ken said no, women usually get custody of their kids in a divorce and how would it look if I didn't? I would look like an unfit mother. He said I could get them easy if I knew how to fight for them. Why would he go to all that effort if he disliked them enough to hurt them?"

Hawkeye swallowed against the urge to be sick. They had been assuming that Donovan's attacks on his stepdaughter had been a crime of opportunity. But if getting the girls had been his idea, if he had coerced their mother into it, it put everything into a different light.

He was saved having to answer when she spoke again. "My ex knows," she whispered, "doesn't he?"

"Yeah, he knows," she admitted. "We couldn't get in touch with you so Rebecca called him. How'd you know?"

"You almost called me Mrs. McIntyre. Even though I never legally changed the girls' names, they use Donovan." She swallowed. "He's here, isn't he?"

"He is."

"I want to talk to him."

"I'm not so sure that's a good idea."

"Are you trying to tell me who I can and cannot speak with?" The woman that had first walked into the hospital was back.

"I'm saying I'm not sure he wants to talk to you."

"I'll be the judge of that." She strode out of the room without waiting for him.

xxxxxxxxx

It was the second time in five minutes she'd walked right into someone. She _really_ needed to start getting more sleep. She smiled a little at that thought; it wasn't like she actually had any control over the situation.

She was so deep in her own thoughts that it took her a few seconds to realize that the person she'd just tripped over was staring at her. She glanced up at him, prepared to offer an apology, but that went out of her head as the breath was taken out of her lungs by the realization of who was standing in front of her.

"My God."

He didn't look as taken aback as she felt, but she spoke again before he had a chance to. "What are you doing here?"

"Long story." His voice cracked a little on the words alone, but she didn't need him to tell her anyway. As she got a good look at him, it all fell into place. She knew why Rebecca Donovan looked so familiar. The littler girl, Kathleen, greatly resembled her mother, but Rebecca was practically a carbon copy of the man in front of her, or as close as a girl could be...

_To her father._

_Not Rebecca Donovan. Rebecca McIntyre._

"Hawkeye talk to you?" she asked softly.

He nodded. "Told me everything. I'm still having a hard time swallowing it, though. What kind of a father am I, to let this happen to my girls?"

"You didn't let it happen," she replied gently. "And the fact that you're feeling guilty tells me all I need to know about what kind of a father you are."

He did a bit of a double take. "You have no idea how bizarre it is to hear you talking like that. Last time I saw you all you could talk about was how important it was that I be on time for inspection or some such nonsense."

She laughed a little. "I know."

"Hawkeye told me you'd changed. I wasn't so sure I believed him."

"Is that all he told you?" She shook her head. "It didn't just happen out of the blue. He had a lot to do with it."

He raised his eyebrows. "I thought you two couldn't stand each other."

"Sometimes we couldn't. But there was always more. Was there a time, about three months before you left, where he was out all night and gave you some story you just didn't quite have the details to confirm?"

"Yeah, now you mention it. I could never get him to tell me who that nurse was. Robbins had just left, so I thought it might be the same girl he'd talked about. An entire night in the supply tent, that's nice. But no matter how hard I pressed, he wouldn't give up a name. Figured he wanted her all to himself. But what does this have to do with -"

"The reason he never told you who it was is because it never happened. He made the whole thing up."

"What?" Trapper looked taken aback. "Why?"

"Because he was with me. I don't mean like that, either. I was upset and needed someone to talk to. He showed up."

"All night."

"I didn't want to be alone. He stayed with me."

Trapper whistled under his breath. "He had me sold."

"I know. But my point is, he was the first person who ever really cared. I don't think this would have happened otherwise. He just acts like I did it all on my own."

He was going to say something else, but his eyes were drawn to a figure behind her. He stepped past Margaret without even excusing himself from the conversation and planted himself in front of the woman coming up the hall. She stopped short, looking up at him. "John!"

"What the hell were you thinking, Louise?" he said without preamble.

"I - I didn't know. I swear I didn't know!"

"You would've known if you spent any damn time around them! If you didn't just go off and leave them all the time!"

"Because leaving them alone with me for a whole year was so noble?"

"That's not the same and you know it!"

"Oh, really? Enlighten me!"

"With pleasure. First of all, I didn't want to go, and you know that as well as I do. Secondly, it's not like you had no choice. I _begged_ you to let me have joint custody. You shut me down, took them away from me, and then you _neglected_ them." He stared into her eyes. "You hate to lose so much that you made our daughters into pawns. And that's exactly what I'm telling the judge when we go back to court."

The woman sighed, seeming to deflate. "That won't be necessary. Just take them. I'll tell my lawyer to file the paperwork. I don't care anymore."

For a moment, he was actually taken aback. "Are you serious?" The sheer amount of hope in his voice made Margaret's eyes start to water.

"Of course I'm serious. I may have done some things you didn't approve of but I've never lied to you. Not about something like this. Do you want them or not?"

"Of course I do."

She turned and started to walk back out of the hospital. He called after her. "Louise!"

"What?"

"Aren't you going to say goodbye?"

She barely took the time to look back at him. "I'm on a tight schedule."

**There will be a separate chapter to give Trapper and the other two more time to reunite, but I thought this bit was deserving of its own chapter (and I thought you guys had waited long enough).**

**The title is from the Spring Awakening song **_**The Dark I Know Well **_**(which I'm now convinced I was listening to when I conceived of the idea for the last few chapters). If you don't know it you can find it on youtube, and I think most people will agree it's appropriate.**

**Please review.**


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